


stairway to the sky

by CHERRYYONG



Category: NCT (Band), Red Velvet (K-pop Band), WAYV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Demigods, Fluff, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Percy Jackson AU, Prophecy, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22126876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CHERRYYONG/pseuds/CHERRYYONG
Summary: When an ancient prophecy threatens to destroy all that Ten knows, it's up to the young demigods to uncover the past to save their future.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 63
Kudos: 180





	1. the hunters of artemis accidentally acquire a child

**Author's Note:**

> [fic trailer](https://twitter.com/cherryy0ng/status/1217996608249397250?s=21)  
>  [moodboards](https://twitter.com/cherryy0ng/status/1213873943943221248?s=21)
> 
> hello hello! welcome to my first fic! some notes before we dive in:
> 
> 1\. this story is set in the percy jackson modern day universe, and so greek and roman mythological themes are heavy within the plot.
> 
> 2\. usual disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! i do not own the pjo universe nor do i own nct or rv, though i daresay i'd promote them better if i did, and all characters mentioned are in no way affiliated with their person in real life. 
> 
> 3\. also yes pls don't redistribute my work :D
> 
> let's get into it...

Sheathing her knife, Irene sidestepped the disintegrating body of the boar that had been tracking her since she entered the forest, and continued on her way through the trees. The night was eerily quiet, nature seeming to pause its activity as Irene wove her way through it in silence, nothing but the soft crunching of leaves below her feet and the sound of her breathing permeating the air. The bundle strapped across her shoulders was warm against her chest, and she held it closer to herself with one hand, the other gripping her bow tightly. Despite having dealt with the boar, Irene still felt the itch of something’s eyes on her from somewhere in the dark depths of the woods. She hastened her steps, path illuminated by the moonlight of the goddess she served and direction clear by order of the goddess she called mother.

It was halfway through a hunt that Irene had received the summons from her mother. She had been farther ahead from the group of Hunters that day, tracking the path of a manticore along the river, when a flock of white doves swarmed her out of nowhere, fluttering under her arms and between her legs until she was afloat, drifting above the treetops. Had it been a less frequent occurrence, Irene may have been alarmed, but as it was, she was unsurprised when the doves deposited her in a clearing between the trees, revealing her mother sitting cross-legged in the middle of a field of anemone flowers. The air buzzed with the energy that came with an immortal force rooting itself in an earthly form.

Irene stepped before the goddess and bowed her head, ignoring the state that her hair was probably in following the bird abduction. “Good morning, mother.”

Aphrodite smiled, a warm hand reaching out to stroke Irene’s cheek. “Sit, Joohyun.”

Irene placed her bow in the grass before mirroring her mother’s position across from her. The goddess’ appearance, ever shifting, formed itself into a gentle likeness of what Irene imagined she would’ve looked like one day had she aged beyond 22. Or perhaps it was 23… she’d been living for so long that it didn’t matter much to her anymore. Aphrodite’s pristine white dress was settled over the grass, the way in which the pearly fabric glowed a stark contrast to the dust-stained leather donned by her daughter.

“It’s a lovely day,” Aphrodite hummed, hair turning from blonde to a deep auburn to maroon. “The Hunters are well, yes?”

“Yes. We have been traveling north.” Irene hadn’t noticed earlier, but what she had thought was a fold in her mother’s dress was really a bundle of white fabric in her lap. A bundle that was squirming, letting out a squeak before a tiny, chubby hand reached out of the wool folds. Irene’s eyes went wide. 

At Aphrodite’s nod of permission, Irene reached out and took the child in her arms. Very few times had she held a baby before— once in Mexico some sixty years ago, a boy of Apollo’s, and lifetimes before that, her mortal half-sister. Frankly, she was rather wary of babies, how fragile they were to the forces of the world, how incapable of decision most were until adolescence. She regretfully remembered the time before she had made her decision, the time when she, not dissimilar to a baby at that, was fragile to the world. But this child, huge eyes full of wonder and small hand closing around Irene’s finger where it had pulled back the wool, would not be fragile. The boy would not meet the world weakly, as Irene did not, and her inexplicable finality in that matter would make sure of it. Perhaps it was the soft tuft of hair on the infant’s head that turned itself to copy Irene’s own maroon color, or perhaps it was the spirit in his eyes that did not need shifting to match Irene’s, that made her certain of his fate.

“He is my brother.” She knew this, as well as she knew that there was a task ahead of her.

In all the time that Irene had known her mother, the calm grin that adorned her face, however it may have looked then, never faltered, nor did it now. “Yes.”

Irene tore her eyes away from the child, meeting her mother’s instead. She knew that she’d witnessed too many lives, too many childhoods, to be sentimental over the one she held in her arms. Shaking aside her nature, she faced the duty she’d sworn to keep faith to. “Where is he to go?”

The flowers around them started to sway in the breeze, petals drifting into the air as Aphrodite’s form began to glow. She gave one last smile at her children before dissipating into light. 

“The camp.”

The sound of dry leaves crunching from the shadows of the forest behind her pulled Irene out of the memory, drawing her bow in a flash. Turning in a slow circle, she made sure not to jostle her brother as she backed up against a tree. A rustling in the branches above her sent her aim up, eyes darting through the leaves. A flash of white caught her eye through the trees. Irene’s heart dropped when a white dove fluttered into the open, chirping lowly, and within an instant, was pierced out of the sky by a silver arrow.

Irene lowered her bow, its own knocked arrow unreleased. Another crunch of leaves came from the shadows, but she knew exactly who her stalker was now. “Did you follow me?”

More crunching, and then a voice from the darkness. “You _are_ our leader.”

Irene scoffed, walking towards the voice, hearing the other’s steps approaching her too. Seulgi met her in the middle, a pout on her lips. 

“You killed my boar!” The Hunter huffed, stringing her bow across her back. 

“Why did you follow me?”

“He hadn't even attacked you-“

“Seulgi!”

The girl stared back at Irene, a deep furrow in between her brows. 

“I told you to continue north.” Irene sighed, head reeling with the possibilities of where the Hunters could end up without either one of them leading the way. 

“But you went west,” Seulgi said, eyeing Irene apprehensively as she adjusted the strap of the bundle. “And Camp Half-Blood is in the other direction.”

Irene could not respond to that, and didn’t have to, for her brother started wailing at that moment. She sighed, propping her bow against a tree before kneeling to the ground, shedding her backpack. The baby’s face was red from the effort of crying, and Irene unwrapped the cloth from around herself, cooing in an attempt to quiet him. She nudged her backpack towards Seulgi, not having enough hands to search through it and rock the child at the same time. 

“Well, since you’re here, do help out; there’s food for him in there.”

The other Hunter obeyed, settling in a squat next to her to search through the backpack. Irene’s efforts to calm the baby down were futile, not even the usual obnoxious sound effects working. In a last minute attempt, Irene fixed her brother with a stern gaze, tapping into the power that simmered always under her skin and forcing it into the next command she gave.

“Stop crying.”

It worked, the baby sucking in a gulp of air before calming, face still red but now blinking up at Irene curiously. 

Seulgi handed her a pouch of apple sauce. “Did you just charmspeak a _baby_ out of a tantrum?”

“I did,” Irene said, uncapping the pouch. “I did not expect it to stop otherwise.”

Seulgi nodded, waiting as Irene finished feeding the child. She watched as the Hunter gathered her belongings, slinging on her backpack and rearming her bow, before doing the same and hopping to her feet. Irene frowned.

“You were not supposed to follow me, Seulgi.”

The girl sighed, reaching out and plucking a leaf out of Irene’s hair. “You forget that you were the one who trained me. You would not leave me, and I will not leave you now, by the laws of the Hunt.”

Irene could see it in Seulgi’s eyes, the charred remnants of the village she’d been rescued from, the girl still clutching to the body of her mother when Irene had found her, the determination in which she’d recited the pledge to Artemis the day after. Her eyes bore the same determination in them for every day since then, and they bore into Irene now. She knew there was no arguing with her.

“I have betrayed my mission,” Irene finally said.

Seulgi snorted. “Yeah, I figured. We followed your trail of dove carcasses here.”

“Then you must know that much is at stake for the future of this child.”

Seulgi nodded, final. She did not ask for clarification after that, and followed Irene as she continued through the forest. She kept quiet, trailing after her leader, who could hear her fidgeting with the arrows in her quiver, letting out intermittent sighs.

“Does Chiron know?”

Irene knew her silence wouldn’t last long. “I’m sure he does.”

“Then where will the child go?”

Irene halted then, causing Seulgi to nearly stumble into her at the suddenness of it. She looked towards the top branches of the trees. “If I am to announce our route, we might as well all hear it.”

In a loud rustle of leather boots against bark, mixed with a few groans of “Oh c’mon!”, the Hunters of Artemis began dropping out of the trees. Seulgi smiled, bumping fists with Wendy, the two looking smug to have succeeded in their plan. Joy squealed as she approached Irene, cooing when the daughter of Aphrodite allowed her to hold the child for a minute, thankful for the strain off her back finally.

“What’s his name?”

Irene looked down at her brother, sleepy eyes blinking slowly, but not before catching sight of Irene and changing his little tuft of hair fractionally redder. She couldn’t help but grin when she said, “Ten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!  
> [fic trailer](https://twitter.com/cherryy0ng/status/1217996608249397250?s=21)  
> [moodboards](https://twitter.com/cherryy0ng/status/1213873943943221248?s=21)


	2. ten gets sweaty in texas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten, son of Aphrodite.

Ten really, really hated the heat. In the 96 degree summer burn of Texas, wearing a single article of clothing was already disgusting, but stuffed into a full set of celestial bronze armor while trudging through a field of chest-high dry grass was, considerably, much worse. Longingly, he thought back to his comfy, temperately cool bed in the Aphrodite cabin, where he had been resting just last night, before Taeyong had dragged him out of his covers at 3am to set off right away on an urgent mission. To Texas. In June. Enough sweat was dripping off his body to re-hydrate the entire field, and Ten swore to the _gods_ if they didn’t find this damn water well within the next hour--

He ran face-first into Lucas’ back, head bouncing in his helmet with how hard he’d smacked it on his friend’s shoulder.

“What the _shit_ , Xuxi?!”

A hand clamped over his mouth from behind, Taeyong’s voice hissing at him to shush as he dragged them flat to the ground, Lucas following suit. Ten squirmed his way out of Taeyong’s sweaty hand, inching his head up to get a peak of what Lucas had seen in front of them. About 20 yards in front of them, the tall grass receded into a clipped-down clearing, the center of which was occupied by a bleak, certainly dry, stone well. And around that well stood three empousa, each dressed in some variation of a sexy-farmer-girl Halloween costume, which was nearly convincing besides the leathery wings sticking out between their shoulder blades and the heavy steel spears in each of their hands.

Ten ducked back down, wiping some sweat off of his brow. He stared at his friends, adamant when he said, “I’m always the distraction, so I think it’s someone else’s turn.”

Taeyong nodded. “I’ll distract them this time. Besides, you’re the lightest of us, Tennie.”

“What the hells does _that_ mean?” 

Lucas didn’t seem to have a clue either, but the two of them had gotten quite used to the other demigod speaking in vague riddles over the time they’d been training together. He remembered the day he’d met Lee Taeyong for the first time, the deeply serious, almost comical, expression of the boy who’d stuck a hand out for nine year old Ten to shake, who in his usual blunt manner had said “You’ve got pretty eyes,” and elicited the first smile out of who would soon become his best friend. And yet, in the nine years that they’d known each other, Ten still didn’t understand half of the words that left his friend’s mouth.

And so Lucas and Ten were left pondering in the grass why it mattered that Ten weighed the least of the three, as Taeyong stood before shooting into the sky, superman-style with a clean _swoosh_ of wind. Ten had always found it unfair that Taeyong never had to wear armor, but then again, metal never stayed on his body for long before drifting away, as if Taeyong were a big anti-magnet. A complementary blast of lightning struck the ground in front of the empousae, sending them scattering. The son of Zeus hovered closer to the ground, taunting the guards with a wink before leading them leaping into the tall grass on the other side. 

He and Lucas took off towards the well, the latter muttering a quiet “ _show off_ ” at Taeyong’s display. The last mission the three of them had been on together, along with his friend Taeil to find Hecate's stolen scepter, Ten had provided the distraction by turning himself into the exact likeness of Angelina Jolie to distract a muggle security guard long enough to let the others sneak into a museum. He stood boldly in the fact that no performance has yet topped that one, though Johnny’s Twitter-trending-moment “Man on Literal Fire Spotted Strolling Through Central Park” came pretty close, much to his distaste.

Ten reached the well first, looking down into the endless darkness that extended downwards. Chiron had described the goal of their retrieval before they’d left: a cursed dagger belonging to Ten’s ancient sister, Helen of Troy, that somehow managed to find itself at the bottom of a dry water well in the middle of San Antonio. Ten sighed, pulling off his helmet.

“You’re jumping down there?” Lucas asked, peering over the edge with a scrunch of his nose.

“No way,” Ten said, dropping his chestplate down next to his helmet. He pulled on the rope connecting a bucket to the top of the well. “You’re lowering me down.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow and shrugged, gesturing for Ten to get on with it. The rope felt firm enough in his hands, rings digging into this fingers, as he swung himself to sit on the ledge of the well, planting his feet onto the bucket. From that angle, the piercing Texan sun reached the bottom of the well, which Ten could estimate was a solid 50 feet deep.

He scooted off the edge, teetering on the sides of the bucket as Lucas hung on to the rope, huffing in disbelief at what they were attempting. “I kinda feel like Rapunzel letting down her hair.”

Ten glared at him. “Do _not_ chuck me like Rapunzel.”

The descent into the well provided a welcomed break from the heat, though the smell of mold nearly nullified it. Ten scowled, trying his best to breathe through his mouth. Taeyong should’ve been the one to get this damn knife-- the guy could’ve flown straight down here with no problem and left Ten with his Angelina Jolie impression. But _no_ , Chiron had been adamant that Ten was to be the only one to touch the dagger.

He was nearly at the bottom when the rope lurched, causing Ten to yelp when he lost his footing before scrambling to stay balanced on the bucket. Lucas swore loudly above him, a startled “Hades!” echoing down into the well.

“What is it?” Ten shouted up when Lucas’ head disappeared from over the edge. He heard a loud crash, which he could only hope was caused by Taeyong’s thunder, followed by another curse from Lucas before the rope went slack, sending Ten hurtling down the rest of the way into the well. He hit the moist, muddy bottom, a searing crack instantly shooting up his left ankle on contact. Gasping in pain yet despite it still refusing to fall into the nasty gunk of the well floor, Ten gripped onto the rope for dear life. Using it to balance, he straightened and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He wasn’t sure if it was sound echoing from the top of the well down to him, but Ten could hear a faint, eerie whisper all around him. 

Reaching a hand out to feel against the stone walls of the well, the voices got louder. Ten hopped on one leg closer to the wall, hearing his rings scrape the way along it in the direction of the voice until his hand hit a loose stone and the whispering became deafening. Another crash from above let Ten knew that he wasn’t imagining the voice, and he wriggled the stone, finally pulling it out of the wall. At that, the voice went suddenly silent. Giving it no more thought, Ten focused on the rock in his hand, which, upon further inspection and the near loss of a finger, he determined wasn’t a rock at all but the calcified hilt of a dagger, the metal blade of it still shiny despite the environment it’d been kept it. 

He ran a finger down the flat of the blade, the light too dim to be able to make out his reflection in it, but the voice returned once more to say a single word: _Katoptris_. 

“Hello, Katoptris,” Ten murmured at the dagger. “I’m Ten.”

He sheathed the dagger in his belt, glad to have left his own sword outside of the well. Which, speaking of, he had no way of getting out of now with Lucas nowhere to be found and his ankle starting to throb dully. He tugged on the rope in a last feeble attempt to get Lucas’ attention, to no avail.

Ignoring the panic that began to set in at what could’ve happened to the others, Ten hoisted himself onto the splintering bucket. If he had to pull himself up 50 feet with his bare hands, so be it. 

He’d made it nearly a quarter of the way up when the rope began to quiver under his fingers.

“Oh fuck,” Ten cursed, feeling the string of the rope beginning to unthread. “No, no, no no _no--_!”

The rope snapped, sending Ten careening back to the bottom, this time landing straight on his ass in the mud, which, much to his disgust, cushioned his fall. Biting back a groan at the pain that shot up from his ankle, Ten struggled to get back on his one leg, leaning against the wall for support.

“Ten!”

A familiar voice shouted over the edge of the well, and Ten almost cried in relief at who he saw at the top. Seulgi’s head disappeared for a split second before reappearing, tossing a thick silver ribbon into the well. The fabric had a loop at the very bottom that Ten’s right foot fit right into.

“You ready, kid?” 

“Kid? I’m 18!” Ten yelled back, met with a laugh of “Alright, kiddo!” from the Hunter. 

Seulgi hoisted him up smoothly, immortal strength a match for Lucas, and Ten felt the sweltering heat hit him in no time. She met him at the top with a wide smile, pulling him into a tight hug before he even managed to untangle himself from the ribbon.

“It’s good to see you too, Seulgi,” Ten said, voice muffled in her shoulder.

Another crash sounded, and it was then that Ten noticed the battle surrounding them. Lucas was fighting off two of the empousae cowgirls while Taeyong was struggling to hold off half a dozen masked attackers, the lack of wind in the field and clear sky against his luck. He didn’t struggle for much longer, however, when an all too familiar horn sounded from the tall grass, and a mass of leather and silver dashed into the scene, led by none other than Ten’s sister.

At the sight of the Hunters of Artemis, the masked enemy fled, followed by the single empousa that Lucas hadn’t disintegrated. With Seulgi’s help, Ten hobbled away from the wall of the well, meeting his sister's open arms.

“You’re hurt!” Irene noticed immediately, holding him by the shoulders to inspect him. “Did you leap into that well?”

“No, sis,” Ten huffed, rolling his eyes knowingly with Seulgi from where she was gathering Ten’s discarded bits of armor. “Xuxi fucking _dropped_ me.” 

Irene whipped her head around to glare at said demigod, who ducked his head in apology. Ten didn’t take it personally-- he’d broken many bones before, but he knew Irene probably did. She’d _raised_ those bones. 

Taeyong jogged over, accepting Irene’s ruffling of his hair, one of the only people Ten knew Taeyong to hold a fearful respect for that he’d allow to show such affection. 

“Taeyong,” Irene started, still supporting Ten’s weight off his injured ankle. “How do you plan to return to camp?”

“Hey! Why do you assume he’s the quest leader?” Ten asked, affronted.

“I _am_ the qu-”

“That is besides the point,” Irene said, always stoic. “The Hunters are on feet, and I’m afraid my brother cannot continue without transp-”

The whistle of an arrow piercing through the air cut her off, and Ten turned to come face to face with its flint tip, having been stopped in midair by Taeyong’s outstretched hand, static causing his hair to stick up wildly. A rustle came from the grass across from them, and Wendy and Lucas went chasing after it in an instant. Ten’s helmet was suddenly plopped back onto his head, courtesy of Seulgi, as she and Irene dragged him back to the well, serving as a cover in the otherwise empty field. The same harsh whisper was drifting out of the well, and Ten did his best to ignore it.

“How did you three arrive here?” Irene demanded, knocking her bow.

“Argus drove, and then Yong flew while Xuxi and I took the train,” Ten answered, using his sword as a temporary crutch as he tested his weight on his screaming ankle, holding back a wince. “I can make it to the train station.”

“Absolutely not,” Irene and Seulgi said in unison, each aiming their bows into the grass as more masked figures revealed themselves in the field. Irene tilted her head, securing her bow to her back before stalking towards the grass, twin knives in hand.

Seulgi nudged at Ten’s hip, where Katoptris was still sheathed. “They came for the blade, so we gotta get you out of here before they get it from you.”

Before Ten could ask why they wanted the knife so bad, an arrow struck the stone behind him, sending him and Seulgi rolling away from the safety of the well. Ten landed in a painful crouch right in front of where the tall grass ended, sword swinging in an arc around himself in defense. A flash of movement caught his eye to his right, and he leapt onto the figure, trapping them down with his body weight.

He pressed the edge of his sword against their neck, sneering. “Who the fuck are you?”

The person, probably human, Ten figured, attempted to throw him off with a kick at his legs, but Ten held on, forearm pressing against their forehead to keep their head down. In the process, the mask began to slide, and Ten ripped it the rest of the way off, preferring to know what it was he was killing before he did. He wasn’t ready for whose eyes met him.

“Winwin?”

The boy that Ten knew so long ago stared back up at him, confused expression on his gentle features. “Who the hells is that?”

The demigod kicked him off easily after that, grabbing his mask and stumbling back into the grass before Ten himself was hauled back up by the waist, still stunned. He couldn't have imagined it, the face that he could hardly even pull up in his dreams, but Ten was certain that it was him. Lucas looked down at him worriedly as he hauled them back into the clearing.

“I-” Ten choked on his words. “That was Winwin.”

Lucas shook his head, an indecipherable look in his eyes. “It wasn’t.”

Ten looked back at where the boy had disappeared into the grass, to find nothing; maybe he had imagined it after all. It wouldn’t be the first time. Taeyong and Irene met them halfway in the middle of the clearing, Taeyong’s hands coming to grab both his and Lucas’ arms.

“I can try to fly Ten out to the train station first, but I took a look over the way there and they’re spread all throughout,” Taeyong stated, just a hint of uncertainty in his voice. 

Irene furrowed her eyebrows. “The Hunters can cover you there. The knife and Ten must make it back.”

Taeyong nodded, already crouching to let Ten on his back before he even got a chance to argue the fact that there was no way Taeyong, strong-willed as he was but still hardly bigger than Ten himself, was going to be able to carry him for nearly 6 miles to the train station, even by air. He didn’t have to argue, in the end, because a chill creeped down his spine in that moment right as Irene let out a pained scream, already rushing in the direction of the well.

A tall, masked figure stood over the fallen body of Seulgi, a red stain growing outwards from her stomach. Ten’s heart dropped, not even feeling the throbbing of his ankle as he ripped himself from Lucas’ grip to hobble towards her, sword leaving the ground as he raised it to hurl at the assailant, but Irene beat him to it, shooting the figure in the shoulder with a silver arrow, who hardly acknowledged it before turning tail and running back into the grass, pursued by Taeyong and four Hunters.

Ten dropped to his knees next to Seulgi, clutching her paling hand in his own as Irene pulled her head into her lap, whispering rapid prayers. Ten had never seen his sister cry, and wondered if this would be the first that he did. Seulgi's lips were moving silently, wide eyes starting to unfocus despite the urgency in which she seemed to be trying to speak. A weight grew in Ten’s chest as Seulgi’s hand grew colder in his, and he wished with all his might to return some warmth back into it, pulling off his metal rings and throwing them into the grass in an attempt to do so.

Suddenly, from where one of his rings, a simple black metal band, landed in the grass, the ground began to shake, until a crack snaked out from the bottom of the water well, and from it leapt a pitch-black Hellhound. Irene gasped, leaning over Seulgi’s body in cover, but Ten sighed in relief, seeing Lucas run over at the sight too. He reached a hand out, and the hound pushed her giant snout against it, allowing Ten to use her for leverage back up to his feet. The small semi-truck of a labrador retriever lowered herself to her stomach, an invitation.

“Xuxi, help get Seulgi up,” Ten ordered, crawling onto the back of the dog himself.

Lucas obeyed, managing to convince Irene to let him carry Seulgi to the Hellhound, before climbing on behind Ten.

Ten looked down at his sister’s apprehensive glare at the dog. “Rene, please trust me on this one. She won’t make it if we wait any longer.”

With a sniff of her nose, Irene conceded, making her way over, until another flint-tipped arrow whizzed past her ear. A flash of lightning struck a spot in the tall, dry grass, and Hunters came running out of them as Taeyong set the field ablaze. He appeared out of the clouds, a heavy breeze starting to pick up around them.

“Go!” the son of Zeus shouted, lightning flashing behind his eyes. “We’ll hold them off!”

Ten trusted his best friend, and so he knew his sister would too. Irene climbed onto the hellhound behind Lucas, and Ten leaned down to whisper into the dog’s ear.

“Hutong, let’s go find Kun.”

Ten turned to look at Seulgi one last time, her closed eyes and shallow breaths, before Hutong rose to her feet. He embraced the cold as they melted into the shadows behind the well, whispering voices becoming deafening as the darkness enveloped them.

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢

Irene followed Ten’s eager tugging of her hand through the halls of his kindergarten, laughing endearingly at his excited rambling about his hand-turkey project that the teacher had on display.

Sure enough, when they arrived in the classroom, a wildly colorful handprint turkey claimed the top of the chalkboard behind the cheerful teacher stood at the front of the class. Her smile grew impossibly wider when she caught sight of Irene, rushing over to shake her hand.

“Mrs. Leechaiyapornkul, it is so lovely to meet you!” She rushed out all in one breath. “Ten is such a bright young boy, you must be so proud.”

Irene smiled with a thin lip, nodding politely. “Thank you, I am, although my name is Irene. I am Ten’s older sister.”

The teacher’s smile wavered for a split second, before regaining her posture. “Oh, my apologies, Miss Irene! May I ask why your parents could not make it to Parent-Teacher conferences today?”

Irene was about to push some extra sweetness into her smile, but Ten was tugging on her sleeve and pointing at his drawing tacked up to the chalkboard, and she let him lead her to it. She cleared her throat, turning her head back at the teacher. “They were busy today, but I can assure you that I’m capable of standing in as Ten’s guardian this evening.”

Ten’s teacher nodded eagerly, smile never leaving her face, which may or may not have been the cause of the gentle encouragement that Irene had slid into her words. Either way, the rest of the conference went smoothly, 30 minutes of Irene listening to the teacher go on and on about how wonderful Ten was in class, how he excelled in all their activities, which Irene had all expected. Irene was very determined to make Ten the best, and Seulgi had said that kindergartens didn’t distinguish valedictorians, but it wasn’t like either of them had experience in one to prove it.

She and Ten returned to the car before Irene’s ear could be talked off. Ten hummed happily from the backseat as Irene drove through downtown towards the outskirts of the city, where at this hour she expected Wendy to be stopping Joy from burning down the house in another baking incident. Irene turned down the radio when she noticed that Ten’s humming had come to a stop, looking at her brother in the rearview mirrow.

“What’s wrong, Tennie?”

Ten didn’t meet her eyes, looking down and playing with his fingers. “Nothing.”

Irene waited for him to continue, as he always did.

“I dunno…” Right on cue. “Why doesn’t mommy ever visit us?”

Irene sucked in a breath, having expected the usual “Where does snow go after winter?” question. She took her time before answering. Ten had already the basic ideas of what they were, knew that he wasn’t like most other kids and to not mention it to them, but his curiosity had never been containable. There were days that Ten had kept her up all night with question after question about anything he’d found a slight peculiarity in, and nothing could stop his bombardment except Wendy at last shouting _Shut up!_ from her room.

Irene settled on a suitable response. “Mother is very busy these days.”

“On her cloud?”

Irene nodded. A cloud city in the sky wasn’t far from what Olympus really was. "On her cloud."

Ten was quiet for a bit, before continuing. “She is too busy for a fam’ly.”

Irene could hear the sadness in his little voice, hitting her in the chest like a bullet. He hadn’t been wrong, but Irene couldn’t bear to tell him that.

“Tennie,” she murmured. “Don’t we have a family?”

She saw Ten nod through the mirror, beginning to list off names on his fingers. “You, me, Seulgi, Joy, Aunt Arty, Uncle D, Wendy… we have a big, big family.”

“Yes, we do.” Irene turned onto an unpaved road, the acres of their farmland stretching in front of her. “Do we need mommy to still be family?”

Ten shook his head furiously, a tiny furrow in his brow. “We don’t need mommy at all.”

Irene parked the car in the driveway, opening her door to come around to release Ten from his locked seatbelt, only to find that he’d unbuckled already and was still waiting for her to come around. The furrow in his brow spread down his face, a frown adorning his lips now. Irene crouched down to meet his eyes. 

“Tennie.”

Her brother looked up at her, big eyes far too unreadable for a 5 year old. He opened his arms, and Irene scooped him up to balance on her hip, locking the car behind her as she made her way to the house.

“You have me, Ten,” Irene murmured into his soft, brown hair that matched her own current color. 

Seulgi stepped out of the front door, meeting them on the porch with a nearly-burnt cookie in hand. She wrapped an arm around them both in a hug, pressing a kiss onto Ten’s forehead, who reached for the cookie, which she gave with no hesitation. Irene would normally scold the both of them for disrupting their diet with desserts, but today could be an exception.

Ten chomped into the cookie, not complaining at the crunch of it, stating with a mouthful of crumbs, “Don’t neef mommy wif Renie and Soolhee.”

Seulgi laughed, and Irene picked the crumbs out of her hair that Ten had spat out. They headed into the house, Seulgi’s hand lingering on her elbow when Ten refused to be let down. Irene welcomed it, hugging her brother close while she still had the time to.

“Seulgi?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“Can I have another cookie?”

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! i forgot to mention earlier, but the fic title along with the chapter titles are taken from lyrics of fleurie's album "Love and War"! the song "turns you into stone" is the source of stairway to the sky, specifically :D  
> EDIT: yes i changed the chapter titles to pay proper respect to uncle rick riordan. there will be enough angst without the cryptic song lyric titles :)  
> [fic trailer](https://twitter.com/cherryy0ng/status/1217996608249397250?s=21)  
> [moodboards](https://twitter.com/cherryy0ng/status/1213873943943221248?s=21)


	3. the golden fleece is conveniently convenient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hunters and Demigods arrive at camp.

They reappeared within the familiar trees of Half Blood Hill, the weight of darkness clinging to them. Ten blinked rapidly to adjust his eyes to the sudden afternoon light as his senses came back to him. Despite the heat they’d been in seconds before, Ten was cold to the bone, ankle throbbing dully where it bumped against Hutong’s fur.

“Oh, _gods._ ”

Ten whipped around at Lucas’ exclamation, head pounding when he saw the terrifying redness of blood staining his friend’s arms and hands where they were wrapped around Seulgi to keep her up. The last bit of color had faded from the Hunter’s cheeks, and Ten reached out a shaky hand towards her wrist, the edges of his vision beginning to blur in fear of the pulse he might not find. He’d never once seen Seulgi take an injury like this— when he was younger, he used to think it impossible for _anything_ to touch his sisters.

“Ten! We need to go!”

Irene’s voice snapped him out of his stupor, snatching his hand back. They didn’t have time to waste. “Hutong, take us to Camp.”

The hellhound sprinted off instantly, each bumpy log or tight turn they made through the forest making Ten’s heart lurch. At long last, the marble pillars inscribed with ancient Greek came into view, and they hurtled past them into the valley of Camp Half Blood. Ten spotted their centaur mentor by the Big House and nudged Hutong in his direction. People were starting to take notice of them, and Ten saw two familiar figures in orange point and wave at them from the fighting arena, before the shorter seemed to realise that something wasn’t quite right and broke into a run towards them, Chiron following shortly behind.

Hutong came to a sliding stop in front of her master, who dropped his sword and was immediately reaching out to help Ten off the hellhound, who swatted his hands away, turning back to help Lucas instead. His friend was already struggling his way to the ground, helped by Johnny, whose smile melted off his face the second he saw who was in Lucas’ arms. The son of Hephaestus held out his arms to take Seulgi’s weight off of Lucas, before suddenly freezing upon realizing something, head whipping towards Ten in a panic.

“Where’s Taeyong?” The demigod‘s voice was grave, and it annoyed Ten to no end.

“You think I’d ever leave him if I knew he wasn’t holding his fucking own?” Ten screeched back, gesturing frantically at Seulgi’s very much unmoving body. “Help my sister, man!”

Ten stared down the other boy, for once taller than him from his perch on Hutong, growing increasingly anxious with every second that Seulgi bled out. He knew Taeyong better than anyone, and Ten knew that nothing could ever best him. Not a dozen empousae, not the horrendous Texan heat, and certainly not this dumbass son of Hephaestus. Johnny looked away first, seeming to finally take Ten’s word for it. That was a first.

“Be _careful!_ ” Irene hissed, eyes dark and glancing around as she followed Lucas off the hellhound, finally freed by Johnny scooping the Hunter out of his arms.

“Take her to the Big House.” Chiron trotted up to them, a concerning frown appearing on his face as he felt Seulgi’s forehead with the back of his hand. Turning to Irene, he murmured an additional, “If you would allow our aid, Hunter.”

His sister’s voice was smaller than he’d ever heard it when she bit out, “Yes.”

Ten watched Irene stick to Johnny’s side as they followed Chiron into the valley, hand finding Seulgi’s where it hung limp.

“Irene!” Ten called out, an instinct pulling his voice out of his chest. His sister looked back at him, and he didn’t know what to say for the unfamiliar fear in her eyes, so he forced himself to give a reassuring grin as best he could. At that, her grim expression softened, nodding once at him before stepping onto the porch of the Big House. It would be okay. Irene always made it okay.

“Xuxi, you’d better talk to your dad.”

Ten had almost forgotten that the two other boys were there. Lucas nodded, clapping the son of Hades on the back before making his way to the strawberry fields, where Mr. D’s distinct leopard-print top gave away his position between the vines. Ten watched the son of Dionysus leave, gut lurching at the blood stains he saw starting to dry on his armour.

“Ten.”

Slowly turning his head and willing his heart to retreat from his throat, Ten finally looked at the son of Hades. “Kun.”

The other boy reached a hand out, the uncertain tilt of his head reminding Ten of the overgrown sheepdog that he called a pet. He rolled his eyes, swinging his legs to one side of Hutong, grumbling, “I don’t need your help.”

Kun shrugged without a word, sticking his hands in his pockets as he watched Ten hop off the hellhound.

He regretted it instantly. Landing in the grass on both feet, Ten had forgotten completely about the situation with his ankle, which gave immediately under his weight, sending him collapsing forward with a yelp. Unfortunately for him, Kun caught him in his arms. A blush quickly spread up Ten’s face as Jaemin and Donghyuck snickered at them, leading Hutong towards the stables, but the young demigods quickly averted their eyes at the cold glare Ten sent their way. Not a day went by that Ten didn’t regret his unapologetic-gossiper influence on the younger campers.

“Gods, Ten!” The rise in Kun’s voice brought Ten’s attention back to the boy he was currently ungracefully draped over. “What did you do to your ankle?!”

“You think I did it on purpose?” Ten drew himself upright, leaning as little of his weight on Kun as possible. “I just need some ambrosia, probably. I’m sure Chiron can take a look at it-“

“It looks broken!”

“It’s not broken,” Ten scoffed, hopping towards the Big House, forcing Kun to scurry after him before he could fall on his face. “And I wanna check on my sisters.”

Ten expected Kun to argue it more, but the other boy seemed to sense the underlying meaning of his words, or maybe he felt the way Ten was trembling anxiously from where his arm hovered right by his waist. There was something about the whispers from that old stone well that clung to Ten, and he couldn’t get the image out of his head of Seulgi’s lips struggling to form silent words as she went cold in his hands. There had been a desperate look in her eyes that tried to tell him something, something urgent enough for her to be willing to get stabbed to find out, for if Ten knew Seulgi at all, he knew that no enemy could sneak up on her reflexes, the same reflexes that she’d etched into his muscles since he could hold a bow.

“The Apollo Cabin can get you ambrosia too,” Kun murmured gently, helping Ten hop around a stone in their path with a tentative hand on his elbow.

“Their stock is stale though, Chiron has the best-“ Ten halted, a horrible thought crossing his mind. “He won’t fuckin’ feed any to Seulgi, will he? He’s gotta know she’s mortal right? Well, not technically, but still, it’d still burn her!”

He began stumbling in a hurry up the porch of the Big House before Kun dragged him to slow down, turning him by the shoulders to look at him, grip tightening on his arms when Ten tried to yank himself away. 

“She’ll be okay, Ten. Irene’s with her, and she’d cut off her own hand before she let anything else happen to Seulgi,” Kun reminded him, and Ten’s breath returned to a normal pace when he realized that he was right. Gingerly, Kun continued on. “And, don’t take this the wrong way, please, but it might be best if we didn’t distract them right now.”

Ten understood, nearly agreeing to go to the Apollo kids instead and even considered asking Kun to help him there, but then Johnny stepped out the front door, toweling off Seulgi’s blood from his hands with a stupid, easy chuckle. “Ah, Kun’s right, it’s getting pretty crowded in there.”

Where Ten had been reassured just moments ago, he was now scowling, pushing Kun’s arm off him and jumping forwards to jab a finger at Johnny’s face. 

“Don’t _ever_ tell me what’s good for me when it comes to my sisters,” he snarled, ignoring the smell of iron that radiated off the son of Hephaestus, whether from his sister’s blood or from his time in the forge, he didn’t care. It repulsed him either way. “I’m leaving on my _own_ accord.”

And with that, he stormed off the porch as dramatically as he could on one leg, gritting his teeth through the ache that was spreading up to his knee. Neither Kun nor Johnny made any move to stop him, but he still felt the need to whip his head around and say, “Neither of you follow me!”

By the time he’d made it past Cabin 3, tearing off his armor piece by piece along the way, Ten had realized how useful it might’ve been if he’d accepted some help. His ankle had gone nearly completely numb, and the shaking in his hands wasn’t making the removal of his shin guards easy. There were few campers strolling around during lunchtime, and the few who were noticed Ten’s scowl and hurriedly scurried away. Luckily for Ten, he spotted a friend, one usually unlikely to annoy him, walking towards him, nose stuck in an old scroll.

“Taeil!”

The son of Hecate startled, nearly ripping the corner of his scroll. One look up and down at Ten sent him speeding over, the air around him shifting dizzyingly as usual.

“You’re crazy, dude,” Taeil said, taking Ten’s helmet and chestplate into his arms without another word from the son of Aphrodite.

“Oh, Moony, you don’t mean that.”

With a disapproving click of his tongue and a flick of his chin, Ten was suddenly lifted into the air, weightless, surrounded thickly with Mist. Taeil adjusted the assorted items in his arms before setting off towards Cabin 7, a floating Ten in tow. Ten had only ever seen Taeil do his spooky magic tricks on campers when a prank war went too far, or that one time his little brother had gotten stuck on top of the Poseidon cabin (long, long story), but he supposed now, as he drifted past the cabins much to the dismay of the various half bloods occupying them, the spooky tricks could be used for good.

Taeil knocked twice on the Apollo cabin, which during lunchtime was unlikely to hold many demigods. But, much to Ten’s favor, his favorite son of Apollo opened the door, ukulele in hand and paint in his hair; not an unusual sight for the boy.

“Hey, Lele!” 

Chenle just stared up at him from the ground, jaw hanging slightly before regaining his composure. The twelve-year old held up his ukulele to present the starry pattern he’d painted across it. “Before I fix whatever’s wrong with you, look what I made for Hyuck’s birthday!”

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢

Ten swung his legs in the air from where he sat on the swing behind the Artemis Cabin, sipping a glass of what tasted like the memories of Wendy’s signature banana bread, the only way any of the Hunters had been able to get fruit into him when he was younger. Chenle had confirmed Kun’s inference that Ten had broken his ankle and, after prescribing him a glass of nectar and a story about Jisung falling off their canoe that morning, ran off to join his friends for lunch. Now, Taeil and Doyoung were sprawled in the grass in front of Ten’s swing, leaned over Taeil’s scroll and discussing something about moon patterns that Ten couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to. His mind was occupied on other matters, and he couldn’t hold them back any longer.

“I saw Sicheng today.”

Doyoung’s head shot up, glasses flying off his nose before Ten caught them out of the air. Testing his weight on both his feet and finding it to not hurt unbearably, he folded his legs underneath him in the grass next to his friends and handed the son of Athena back his glasses. He repeated, “I saw him.”

Taeil hummed, never surprised by most things but nearly now. “Did you talk to him?”

Ten shook his head, thinking hard at the blank expression Winwin had given him when he’d pinned him to the ground. He hadn’t changed a bit from when Ten knew him; older, yes, but the kind, fearless features were still there under the mask of a stranger. 

“He didn’t recognize me,” Ten said, the reality and impossibility of him having seen their long-missing friend dawning on him. “Whoever took him took his memory too.”

“How do we know someone took him?” Doyoung asked, always inquisitive, though his eyes darted away from Ten’s. Even he didn’t like discussing what had happened. “He could’ve gone willingly.”

The conversation was one they’ve had for 4 years now, and one that Ten had wrung dry of new possibilities. They were 14 when four campers left on a mission and only three returned, nothing but a simple goodbye note and a beaded necklace left to remember Winwin by. Ten remembered weaving his shroud with Taeil and Taeyong, the son of Nike having no siblings to do so for him. He remembered burning it, and yet even as the fire built up in the pyre, he'd held onto the certainty that his friend was still out there.

Ten shrugged, regretting not having chased his old friend into the grass, if it had even been him in the first place. He really did have an annoyingly and randomly selective memory, and with what had happened following his Winwin-sighting, his mind had had other things to focus on. “He was with the people that attacked us.”

Doyoung made a shocked noise, but was interrupted by the back door of the Artemis cabin opening. The cabin was so usually empty that Ten forgot that it could be inhabited. He leapt to his feet when his sister stepped out, wrapping her in a hug. Irene patted his back wearily, exhaust clear in her posture. Ten heard his friends gather their things and depart, giving the siblings some time to speak.

“She will be okay,” Irene said before Ten got the chance to ask. She dropped to a seat on the swing. “We had to use the Fleece.”

Ten sighed in relief. “It’s handy, that Golden Fleece.”

Irene hummed in agreement.

“Can we go see her?”

His sister shook her head slowly, masking a dejected look on her face that Ten could still pick out. “She hasn’t awakened.”

“Then when she does?”

Irene smiled gently, nodding. Ten gestured for her to scoot over on the swinging bench so he could take a seat. In all the chaos, he hadn’t been able to catch up with his sister, who he hadn’t seen since summer break began. Irene beat him to the first question.

“How did your finals go? Graduation?”

Ten groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. He didn’t want to think about his pretentious boarding school ever again. It was a miracle that he’d finally freed himself from the chains of necessary education. “Fine? I dunno, as well as you’d expect? They don’t matter, anyway.”

Irene frowned, fixing him with a look that he knew all too well. “Everything we do has a purpose, Ten.”

“But I want to join the Hunt,” Ten huffed, tired of the same argument despite how childish he might’ve sounded. “You didn’t need a diploma when you joined.”

“They didn’t have diplomas to _give_ when I joined,” Irene countered. “And you know perfectly well that you cannot be a Hunter.”

Ten picked at his nails, willing his frustration to dissipate. “Aunt Ar-” He caught himself. “Lady Artemis has made exceptions before.”

“We do not base the future on the past, Tennie.”

 _Except that we definitely do_ , Ten wanted to retort, but held back. He could never win an argument against his sister without Seulgi or Joy backing him up. Defeated for now, he resorted to changing the topic.

“So you guys are still following me on every mission, huh? You know, I’m a perfectly functioning adult who can hold a sword now.”

Irene gave a huff of a laugh, rolling her eyes. “I trust in your skills of defense, but no, we weren’t expecting to find you there, too.”

“Too?” Ten frowned, hand going to rest on the mysterious dagger still in his sheath. “Were you also given a mission?”

Irene nodded, gesturing to the blade. “Only a child of Aphrodite can access the powers in that dagger. They say that it shows the future, whether you’d like to see it or not. Lady Artemis did not want it falling into the wrong hands.”

Ten thought back to the voices in that well, and wondered what powers Irene meant. But for now, he had more pressing concerns at hand.

“You hungry?”

“ _..._ Yes.”

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢

At his seat next to the dwindling campfire, Ten overlooked the last campers as they turned in for the night. Bowing his head in greeting at a curfew harpy, Ten thanked his role as counselor of the Aphrodite Cabin for allowing him to stay up just a bit later. Looking out at the beach, Ten waited.

A gentle breeze picked up, causing Ten to shiver. He huffed, getting out of his seat to grab a blanket from the arts and crafts cabin next to the campfire. The building was dark but Ten knew the room well enough to navigate it without switching on the lights. He located the reading corner easily, feeling around until he touched the softness of a blanket. He turned to head back towards the campfire, but a slight change in the air around him had him whipping around, hand connecting with someone’s sweatshirt collar as he backed them up against the window of the cabin. Through the moonlight sifting through the glass, Ten could make out the startled, familiar face of his attacker.

“You surprised me,” Ten sighed, letting go of Kun’s collar. He made his way back out the door, wrapping the blanket around himself.

“Sorry,” the other demigod said, following Ten out the door. “Looks like your foot is better?”

Ten wasn’t sure why the son of Hades was following him around, but he could use the company as he sat back down on his log across the fire. Kun joined him on the next log over. “ S’nothing a good sip of god juice can’t fix.”

They sat in silence for the next minute or so, watching the waves crash against the beach. The fire sizzled to an end, and Ten shivered despite the blanket wrapped around him. He looked over at Kun, who looked back at him, seemingly totally unaffected by the chill.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Nah.”

“Right, I forgot you were a ghost.”

Ten was being totally serious, but Kun laughed nonetheless. He could never understand in the years that he’d known the boy just how it was possible for someone to be so good-natured against all the Olympic sized shit that was constantly thrown at them. Even before Kun had really been among Ten’s many acquaintances, he’d seen how the son of Hades gave an smile to everyone, always downplaying himself to give others equal treatment. As if he wasn’t a Big Three, as if his polished morals had anything to do with strengths he’d have anyway. It was stupid. “Why’re you here, Kun?”

The other boy’s expression turned more serious, more genuine. He'd always looked at Ten with eyes that were a tad too honest. Or maybe he looked at everyone that way. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

If Ten had been as kind a person as Kun, he wouldn’t have scoffed as dismissively, but he wasn’t, and so he did. “Why wouldn’t I be? My sisters are okay, my ankle is fine, and now I’m just waiting for my friend to drop out of those clouds before I can go to bed.”

Kun didn’t press it any further, and Ten was thankful for that. He didn’t have the time to worry about how alright he was; he never had that time because more often than not, there was something not-so-alright, and there was no use in worrying over it. He was still alive, and that’s about as alright as he could ask for.

Ten turned to Kun, thinking of one thing he did have to say to the other boy. “Thanks for sending Hutong earlier.”

Kun shrugged. “She left on her own. I didn’t send her.”

“Oh.” 

A voice from the direction of the beach sent Ten shooting to his feet, jogging across the fire circle to greet his friend. He was ready to drag Taeyong straight to his cabin and discuss his bird sightings from his journey at breakfast tomorrow, but Taeyong wasn’t alone.

Ten pulled Kun down with him to crouch behind a log, eyes and ears straining to pick up the words drifting in the wind. Taeyong’s feet touched down on the sand, and he immediately ran to throw his arms around someone whose back was turned to them but whose annoyingly tall figure was a giveaway.

“I still can’t believe he chose that guy,” Ten grumbled, scrunching his nose at how Taeyong didn’t let go of the hug.

Kun let out a disagreeing hum next to him. “I really don’t get what you have against Johnny. He’s one of the nicest dudes I know.”

“You’d say that about half the people in this camp,” Ten huffed, lowering his voice to catch the next, probably disgustingly sappy words that came from the two. “I just don’t like the way he looks at Yong.”

“I understand it.”

Ten snapped his eyes up to look at Kun incredulously. “Do not, for the love of the gods almighty, tell me you that have a crush on my best friend too.”

“Oh, Styx, no! Like, no offense, Taeyong’s nice and all-”

Ten glared at him even harder. 

“Not like that! Like he’s good-looking and-- _alright_ , what I mean is that he’s not... quite my type.”

“Not _quite?_ ” By now, Ten was just teasing the other boy to see how hard he could make him blush. He snuffed back a laugh when Kun realized his antics and glowered at him, but at the sound of Taeyong’s voice saying his name went silent.

“ _...about Ten..._ _just the beginning before I blew it the hells up,_ ” Taeyong said, the frown clear in his voice. 

_“What did it say?”_

A pause, and then Ten’s blood ran cold at the next words out of his mouth.

_“Something about a god-killer meeting their end.”_

_“A god-killer? What could kill a god?”_

Ten didn’t want to know the answer. 

_“I only caught a bit of the next line, but…”_

Had Kun’s hand not come to catch him, Ten would’ve fallen into the smoldering embers of the bonfire at what they heard next.

_“A son of love and war.”_

_“Ten? Unless it's_ _…”_

Ten was on his feet and running back to his cabin, ignoring Kun’s calls for him to wait. He didn’t need to hear what they said after that. He knew.

He’d been 10 years old when he’d met Winwin. It'd been his second summer at Camp Half Blood, and he and Taeyong had been on the rock wall when they heard the commotion at the main gates. Jumping off the wall and rushing up the hill in curiosity, Ten saw the disintegrating body of a giant scorpion and the boy that was standing over it, bloody dagger in hand and terrified, widely innocent eyes glancing up when Ten reached him. Ten moved to help him, but the boy jumped, pointing the knife at him, and it was then that Ten noticed the other figure peaking out from behind him.

Ten shook off Taeyong’s hands holding him back, ignoring Mr. D’s yells from the distance too, and held up his empty palms, a friendly smile at the ready. His heart raced when the boy with the dagger lowered his weapon, which upon closer look was engraved with the laurel wreath of Nike, revealing another boy. Both looked to be not much younger than Ten himself. And then Ten saw a flicker of a pink haze around the kid, the way he had not a speck of dirt on him while his companion could've blended in with a tree, and broke into an even wider grin. 

He stuck his hand out. “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.”

Hesitantly, the halfblood shook it, hands smooth thanks to the Blessing of Aphrodite. 

“My name is Ten. Don’t worry, the pink stuff will probably be gone by tomorrow, though I don’t really remember how long mine lasted.”

The boy blinked owlishly up at him, clearing his throat. His voice was smoother than Ten had expected, and reminded him of the Apollo counselor’s voice when he sang at campfire. “You’ve had the... pink stuff, too?”

Ten nodded, and scrunched his nose up. It required a lot of energy, but he’d been working hard on it like Irene had taught him, and slowly he imagined his hair turning as pink as the air around the boy. He knew it had worked when he heard a gasp, and the last bit of hesitance left his eyes. Ten smiled proudly. 

“I’m a son of Aphrodite, and so are you. What’s your name?”

The boy stared at him in awe, finally stepping out fully from behind the knife boy, who was gaping at Ten like he’d grown a new head (which if he thought about it, he really had).

”I’m Jaehyun.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd forgotten how invested i was in the pjo universe wow 13 year old cherry would be so proud of me now :,) please let me know what you thought of this chapter!! i love reading all the lovely comments, and i promise i won't keep you waiting too long for the next updates!
> 
> [fic trailer](https://twitter.com/cherryy0ng/status/1217996608249397250?s=21)  
> [moodboards](https://twitter.com/cherryy0ng/status/1213873943943221248?s=21)


	4. kun goes to hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kun, son of Hades.

Kun was awakened by a sharp knock on his door. Opening his eyes to the darkness of the otherwise-empty Hades cabin, he knew that it had only been a few hours at most since he’d fallen asleep. After Ten had sprinted away from the campfire (on a certainly not fully healed ankle, notably), Kun had debated chasing after him but ultimately decided against it, knowing that he’d probably get smacked in the face and yelled at if he tried, a fate that had met Yuta a while back when he’d tried to enter the Demeter cabin without first announcing that he was inspecting cabins that morning. Besides, Kun figured that he was probably not Ten’s preferred person to receive assurance from. 

Rolling over in his bed with a groan, he shuffled to his feet, managing to find one of his bunny slippers but giving up on the other after his visitor knocked again, this time followed by a call of “Qian Kun!”

He opened the door to a ruffled looking Taeyong, though frankly, the son of Zeus more often than not looked to be rather ruffled. Kun squinted at the sudden light from the flickering lantern in his hands.

“I need your help.”

Eyes adjusting to the new brightness, Kun noticed that Taeyong was still in the outfit and armor he’d been in when he’d left for his quest that morning, and wondered what was so important that the sanitation enthusiast that was Lee Taeyong was holding off a shower for. “What time is it?”

“It’s about Ten.”

“10 in the morning?”

Taeyong rolled his eyes, foot tapping on the ground. “Ten the _person_.”

“That didn’t really answer my question,” Kun said, right foot starting to get cold with the lack of a slipper for warm protection. “And why do you think I’d offer my assistance just ‘cause Ten’s involved?”

The son of Zeus just stared at him with a tired expression, hair frizzing with static the way it did when he was frustrated. Without answering Kun’s question, he turned on his heel and started to stalk off, lantern swinging in front of him. “Meet me in the Big House in five.”

Kun sighed, and went back inside the cabin to find his other bunny slipper. Grabbing his sword as an afterthought for protection against the curfew harpies, he set out into the night.

The Big House was more packed than it should ever be at 3am, as a glance at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room told him, and one look around at the people in it let Kun know that his attire may have been slightly inappropriate for whatever the occasion was. Taeyong was standing still stiffly in his armor, Dionysus and Lucas towering over both sides of him and yet each looking much more friendly than the son of Zeus, and Irene and Chiron looked about as serious and somber as they always did in their respective seats at the meeting table. The both of them had a certain aura about them, an unease in their souls that when Kun reached out to sense always remained just out of reach, as if their spirits had been through trouble enough to know how to escape the reaches of Death himself.

Chiron spoke first. “Thank you for joining us, Kun.”

“Thanks for… having me?” Kun nearly winced at his response. He hadn’t been sure what to say. _Thanks for dragging me out of my warm bed? You’re welcome, but why?_ Kun looked around at the people in the room and realized that all the campers present were senior counselors, members of the war council. “Are we going to war?”

Irene sniffed, fingers tapping the arms of her chair. “Something like that.” He'd never been able to pinpoint the origin of her odd accent, archaic and befitting of someone who's lived a short eternity.

Chiron wheeled himself further into the house, in disguised mortal form with consideration to the living room’s low ceilings. Irene pushed herself out of her chair to follow him, and Kun took it as a cue to do the same. On the leather sofa in the center of the room, nearly hidden completely in blankets, laid Seulgi. Pale and hardly breathing, Kun could feel even from his distance from the couch her struggle to remain tied to their world. He watched Irene kneel on the carpet next to her head, a frown carved into the Huntress’ marble face. She adjusted one of the blankets over Seulgi, which upon closer inspection, Kun realised wasn’t a blanket at all but the Golden Fleece that usually hung upon the tall pine tree on Half Blood Hill, protecting the borders of their camp. The gold light that usually emitted from the artifact when it performed its healing magic was gone, as if it had done all that it could.

“She won’t wake,” Irene murmured, gently brushing Seulgi’s bangs out of her face. “The Fleece has healed all of her, but she still sleeps.”

“It went completely dark a few hours ago, but nothing,” Lucas added.

That was certainly unusual for the work of the Fleece, he could surely say, but Kun wasn’t a healer and he didn’t have an explanation for why she wasn’t awake if Chiron himself evidently didn’t. He wasn’t sure why they’d called him all the way over just to confirm that yes, Seulgi was indeed still sleeping. “Maybe it needs time? The Fleece just heals physical injuries, right?”

“But not soul-deep wounds.” Taeyong entered the living room, perching himself on the arm of a loveseat. “That’s where you come in, Kun.”

Kun blinked. He knew what they referred to, and wasn’t too eager to attempt the trick again. He was the son of the Underworld, but that didn’t mean he was overly fond of the dark scar in the corner of his mind that threatened to drag him in with each life-force that he came in contact with. There was a fine line that every soul must walk as they teetered between life and death, and in that area was where Kun could reach and hopefully, in times like this, pull them to return to the side of the living. But such manipulation of Fate didn’t come without a cost, and Kun wasn’t certain that he could do it on his own on three hours of sleep.

He went to kneel on the floor besides Irene. Up close, Seulgi was flawless, not a single scrape upon her skin, but the silver halo that usually shrouded all the Hunters of Artemis was faint around her, a flickering contrast to the glow that emitted from Irene next to him. Kun reached a hand out, letting Irene withdraw her hand before resting his own on her forehead, ice-cold to the touch. Nothing came as he first searched the surface of her force, and he was met with an empty void as he reached further. 

Kun hesitated to pry any further, fingertips trembling at the memory of the last time he’d done this. He wasn’t often affected by the lack of heat, but the coldness of death was always unforgiving, and he couldn’t shake the needles of endlessness from his skin. He let out a shaky breath, brows knitting. “It’s… strenuous on the soul to live as long as she has. The injury took a lot out of her; she’s too tired.”

He hadn’t meant what those words implied, but by the way Irene stiffened next to him, she knew. The Huntress’ voice was thin but steadfast as she tore her eyes from Seulgi to look up at him. Her eyes were so startlingly familiar that his breath caught in his throat. “Seulgi has been by my side for longer than I should’ve been blessed with, but it is not for selfish reasons that her awakening is crucial. The future of Olympus rests on information that only she holds.”

Kun’s eyes widened, hand removing itself quickly from Seulgi’s forehead. Irene didn’t care to elaborate after the crazy, for lack of a better word, reveal. Kun looked around the room, finding only himself to be taken aback at the news. “Did _no one_ think that that’d be kinda important to tell me?”

Lucas turned his head to his dad, muttering under his breath, “I told you to tell him.”

“Tell me what?”

The god in turn looked to Chiron, who turned to Irene, who finally pointed her chin at Taeyong, who was still balanced on the edge of the sofa, eyes trained on a spot on the carpet, arms crossed over his chest. He almost looked to be on the verge of falling asleep, but the fiery look in his eyes gave him away. The son of Zeus’ head turned up, meeting Kun’s gaze. “I know you heard some of what I said earlier when you were spying at the beach.”

Kun didn’t try to deny it. “Yep.”

“There was more.” Taeyong’s knee began to bounce as he continued, eyes dark. “After Hutong took the others away, I stayed back to help the Hunters ward off the attackers. They were mostly scattered after they noticed that the well was empty, but there was this one guy…”

Taeyong glanced towards Irene, who nodded in permission as if she already knew where the story was headed. “The one who had stabbed Seulgi. He was standing at the edge of the well, looking down into it, and it was like he was trapped in a spell or something because he didn’t even see me coming for him until I blasted the well to pieces. He’d run off by the time I landed, but there was… something in that well. It spoke to me.”

“That well was made from the stone of Apollo’s temple at Delphi,” Chiron explained for Kun’s sake, for he’d undoubtedly discussed it with the others already. “It only appears when an unfulfilled prophecy needs to be granted again. It’s a curse from the Oracle’s spirit, a constant reminder of the past.”

“We’d received word of its appearance from our nymph allies in the area, along with rumors that the Dagger of Helen had been found too. A retrieval mission was sent out as soon as we heard.”

Usually, campers sought out prophecies and all opportunities for a quest, but in Kun’s mind, ancient, unfulfilled prophecies had probably been left unfulfilled for a reason, and it certainly wasn’t a good sign that this cursed well was speaking again.

“Taeyong,” Mr. D finally spoke. “What did you hear?”

“Just a few lines. I couldn’t make it out too well with all that was happening, but…”

Kun remembered the same words from the beach earlier that night.

 _The god-killer trained… must betray for a mortal end…_ There were words missing here and there in Taeyong’s memory, but the next line was telling enough. _Son of love and war must first fall._

The room went silent at that, only the sound of Kun’s blood pounding against his temples an echo in the vacuum. He blinked hard, pushing away the shadows that flooded his mind, dragging him back to that freezing night four years ago and the unconscious body of the boy he’d held in his arms as he’d prayed to all the gods that he knew. The gods had not responded. 

Irene’s voice broke through the quiet, hardly a whisper. “Seulgi had heard it all.”

The Hunter turned her gaze to Kun, and if he had been shocked by the hint of plain vulnerability in her eyes, he made sure not to show it. She reached out and grabbed his hand in both of hers, and then he couldn't hide his shock at that.

“She is the only one who can give us the rest of the prophecy,” Irene stated firmly. “If it is true, and the life on the line is that of my brother-”

She cut herself off with a grim frown. “Of my brothers'.”

Kun swallowed, sinking further into the shadows of his memories. Irene’s icy hands squeezed his, drawing him back with the plea in her voice. 

“If the prophecy has returned, and Ten is to fall, we must hear it all and prevent it again. It will remain unfulfilled,” Irene’s silver glow wavered with the force behind her words. “But only if you help us bring Seulgi back.”

Kun bridged the distance between their souls and felt the desperation rooted in her timeless spirit, her love for her family, her willingness to fight for them. Another emotion not in her soul but through her eyes pleaded for him to understand, and in more ways than one, he did. There was no question about it; Kun had to do this. He nodded once at the Hunter, taking one last look at Seulgi’s still form and the faintness of her spirit.

“She’s far gone, but I know where to find her. I’ll need someone to come with me for cover.”

“I’ll go.” Taeyong was on his feet immediately before anyone else even got the chance to respond. Lucas made a noise of complaint, but Taeyong just waved him off, already headed out of the room. 

Kun got back to his feet, accepting Chiron and Mr. D’s wishes of good luck before following Taeyong and Lucas. 

“Qian Kun.”

He looked back at Irene calling his name. She formed a claw over her heart and pushed it outwards, a ward against evil, and Kun returned the gesture. He was glad that she did not thank him yet; she could when Seulgi woke up.

As the demigods exited the living room, Kun heard Dionysus murmur to Chiron, “It is as the gods feared. There are two of them now, and what has to happen cannot be stopped…” 

Kun sped up his pace, stepping out onto the porch. No matter if Dionysus doubted it; he would not let the prophecy be fulfilled. Taeyong halted on the porch next to him, and Kun knew that the same determination coursed through him too. 

Taeyong turned to him, and Kun anxiously awaited what he had to say. Taeyong looked down. “You should probably change into some shoes before going to Hell.”

“Oh, yeah,” Kun glanced down himself at his grey bunny slippers. Warm as they were, they were probably not durable enough for a trip to the Underworld. He started off back to his cabin to change, and Taeyong shuffled after him. Kun could literally feel the tiredness radiating off the son of Zeus, and he realized that the demigod had been awake for nearly 24 hours straight now, and he’d fought a battle and literally _flown_ to and from a different timezone within that time. Kun stopped in his tracks, turning towards Taeyong. “Dude, you need to sleep.”

Right on cue, Taeyong let out a huge yawn, and yet was still trying to grumble an “I’m fine!” through it. Kun shook his head, nudging the boy towards Cabin One as they passed it. 

“I’ll find someone else to go with me. You should really rest.”

Luckily, Taeyong didn’t argue any further, shuffling towards his cabin stiffly, grimy arms purposefully held away from the rest of his body. Kun had always wondered why he couldn’t just summon some rain clouds and take an emergency shower whenever he felt like it, but it probably wasn’t the best time to ask. Kun was about to continue on his way when Taeyong turned his head back suddenly. 

“I saw him.”

He didn't elaborate on who 'him' was, but Kun knew that the same darkness haunted Taeyong as did himself, the result of the years following that night of searching for the son of Venus to the point that they’d nearly lost hope. “Was he still our Jae?”

Taeyong fell under the shadow of the cabin roof, but Kun could still make it out when he shook his head curtly. 

“Don’t think too hard, Taeyong,” Kun said, knowing that he would anyway. “He’s gone.”

The pegasus stables were peaceful as they usually were in the evening, aside from the deep grumbling snore emitting from one, considerably larger pen. Kun gently opened the gate, crouching down in the hay to run a hand behind his pet’s soft ears. Hutong woke with a rumble that bounced off the walls, sitting up on her haunches excitedly upon seeing Kun.

“Hey, puppy,” he murmured to the hellhound, petting her snout. He could feel her weariness still from having shadowtraveled halfway across the country early that day. “I have a favor to ask. It will be a long trip, but I know you can do it.”

Hutong tilted her head, panting happily as if waiting for her order. “Will you come with me to find my brother? It’s time that we give Dad a visit.”

The hellhound got to her feet, pressing her huge nose against Kun in her version of a hug. Kun brushed off his pajama pants and lead Hutong out of the stables in search of a better replacement for his sleep attire. 

Passing through the circle of cabins, Kun saw the flicker of lamp light in their path and ducked behind the Demeter cabin, waving his arms wildly to try to get Hutong to lay low. The harpies kept guard around the camp at every hour, and Kun could only hope that they weren’t hungry this early in the morning. The light cast long shadows past the cabins, and Kun held his breath as it stopped right in front of him.

“Hutong!” The shrill voice of Chenle pierced through the silent night, and the hellhound in question bounded to her feet, pushing Kun over in the process. She wiggled happily as Chenle scratched her head with his entire forearm, giggling the whole while.

Kun stumbled to his feet, shushing the boy frantically. Just because Chenle wasn’t the harpy he’d been expecting didn’t mean that the harpy wasn’t still out there. The boy snapped his mouth shut, eyes wide and obedient as they looked at Kun. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” Kun hissed, pulling both Chenle and his dog after him as he speedwalked to the Hades cabin.

“ _You’re_ outta bed!”

Kun shuffled the son of Apollo onto the porch of his cabin, Hutong sitting at the foot of the steps expectantly. The young demigod stared up at Kun, and he couldn’t stay upset at the attempt at seriousness on the boy’s face, which was nearly as adorable as the duck pattern on his pajamas. Chenle raised his eyebrows, as if waiting for Kun to explain himself. He sighed. 

“I’m a grown-up, so I’m allowed to be up whenever I feel like it.”

“That’s so not fair!” Chenle furrowed his brows, displeased with that answer and clear voice incapable of lowering its volume, forcing Kun to relocate them to inside his cabin instead. “You were sneaking around, so I _had_ to see what you were up to.”

Chenle looked around the cabin, dark due to the hour and not helped by the black decoration covering the walls. He scrunched his nose. “It’s cold in here.”

Kun kicked off his slippers, hunting through the dark for his boots. “You aren’t meant to be here in the first place, so suck it up.”

It seemed that the Apollo kid did indeed suck it up, finding his way over to Kun’s bed and claiming a seat on it as he watched the son of Hades lace up his boots. Kun decided on just throwing a jacket on over his pajamas for the chill of the Underworld, and he adjusted the sword sheath buckled rather awkwardly over his pajama pants.

“Are you going on that mission for Ten?”

Kun was so startled that he choked on his spit. Chenle looked genuinely and innocently curious, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb of a question. “How the hells do you know that?”

Chenle shrugged, cheeks pulling into a proud grin. “Jisung saw it in his sleep, and then I saw it in Ten’s dagger.”

Though absolutely puzzled, Kun was too tired to ponder the strangeness of the 12 year old’s words. He and his friends were the official troublemakers of camp, and Kun figured (and hoped) that this was just another attempt to tease him. He pulled on his jacket and headed back towards the door, gesturing for Chenle to follow. The boy hopped off the bed, standing next to Kun by the door eagerly. Kun looked down at him, and sighed in defeat. Chenle was too bright to get anything past, and so he had to tell the truth. 

“I don’t think Ten would like the idea of me doing anything for him,” He began, slowly choosing his words. “But there is something evil from a long, long time ago that has come back, and I need to find it to get rid of it.”

Chenle nodded seriously, concentrating. “Jisung had said that too. You gotta be careful about that evil stuff.”

Kun smiled endearingly at his concern. “I will be. Jisung is right.”

“I’ll tell him that,” Chenle beamed at the reference of his friend before a yawn overtook him. 

“No more following me, okay?” Kun opened the door, nudging the young halfblood to walk out before him, watching him run to attack Hutong’s leg in a hug. 

Chenle mumbled an agreement, muffled by his face smooshed in Hutong’s fur. Kun walked up to them, gently untangling the son of Apollo’s arms from his dog and bending down to be eye-level with him. “Will you go to bed now?”

“Fine,” Chenle grumbled. “You’ll be okay, right? I'll take care of everyone while you're gone, don't worry.”

Kun chuckled, accepting Chenle’s hug around his torso. It was hard sometimes to see how much the boy had grown from the 9 year old, absolutely and wildly uncontrollable kid that the satyr Felix had brought in from his first protector mission. 

Lucas had been certain that Chenle would turn out to be another son of Dionysus, but when Ten and the Hunters arrived that summer, Joy had grown immediately attached to the chubby-cheeked rascal and was soon given reason when her father Apollo claimed Chenle too. Chenle had been heartbroken when the Hunters left after their visit and had even tried to get Ten to convince them to let him be a Hunter too, but eventually was urged to stay upon the introduction of a hellhound puppy gifted to the camp by Kun’s brother. 

His puppy and brother who, speaking of which, weren't getting any closer to helping him on this mission if Kun delayed any longer in camp. Suddenly, an idea crossed Kun’s mind. 

“Chenle, I have a favor to ask.”

The boy perked up at that, eager to help. 

“Could I borrow one of your ukuleles?”

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢

Ukulele case in hand, Kun and Hutong walked to the top of Half Blood Hill. He looked back down into the valley, content to see that no lights were flickering through any cabin’s window. The chance rarely came for him to enjoy the serene view over camp, and he drank it up. Camp Half Blood had been his first home, and though it was a horrible thing to think about, he tried to cherish every minute he spent in it for he never knew if a mission would be his last. 

“It is a lovely view.”

Irene surprised him when she spoke up, leaned against a marble pillar marking the entrance to the camp. 

“Yeah, it is,” Kun agreed, walking up the rest of the way to stand by the pillar opposite her. “Just taking a last look before I leave.”

“Me too,” Irene sighed, adjusting the bow across her back. 

“You’re leaving?”

“I am going with you.”

Kun blanched. That wasn’t really part of the plan and he had half a mind to say so, but if Irene was anything like her little brother, Kun knew that there was no arguing with her. He gestured towards Hutong. 

“Are you comfortable with her giving us a ride?”

Irene didn’t answer, already climbing her way up onto Hutong’s back. Kun certainly saw where Ten got his spontaneity from. He crawled up, taking his position behind the thick collar around Hutong’s neck. Murmuring his directions in her ear, she began to trot off into the woods. 

The trees had faded into the lit up view of the New York skyline by the time Kun decided to make Irene aware of his plans, whose arms were firmly crossed around her middle to avoid making any contact with Kun. “I think we’ll find Seulgi somewhere between life and death, but that could be a number of places.”

“That’s alright,” Irene’s voice was warped in the wind, but Kun could hear its signature steadiness all the same. “I’ll look with you. Where are we starting?”

“I wanna start with Charon on the river, but since Seulgi isn’t a demigod, I’m having my brother check the waiting lines at the California entrance,” Kun began. He hoped his brother wasn’t asleep by the time his message got across; he knew the son of Pluto cherished his sleep schedule. “And I appreciate you accompanying me, although…”

“Yes?”

Kun cleared his throat, yelling to be able to be heard over the wind rushing past them as Hutong broke into a gallop, zipping them nearer and nearer to the city. “I must tell you the cost of going to the Underworld and bringing something back with you.”

Irene was quiet for so long that Kun almost thought that she didn’t hear. Finally, she said, “I know that there must be an equal exchange for a soul.”

“Yes.” Hutong slowed her pace, and the view around them cleared to reveal that they were travelling through a dark alley between two skyscrapers. Kun felt unnervingly calm, considering the plan he had in mind. “But she is not yet completely gone, and so I will trade for her only a portion of mine. Hopefully.”

“No!” Irene’s voice rose in a panic, grabbing Kun’s elbow. “I cannot let you do that. It will be me.”

Kun shook his head, seeing Central Park come into view as they crossed Harlem. “Don’t worry, I’ve done it before.”

“Which is exactly why you can’t do it again! You need to keep _some_ of your soul to live, Kun.”

He wouldn’t pretend like she didn’t have reason to her words, because he’d come too close to death the last time he’d attempted to raise the dead, and yes, clearly, he wasn’t too keen on perishing from the mortal plane at the young age of ‘surprisingly still alive considering what he’d been through’. But if it were true what Taeyong had said, and that a prophecy to determine the future of their world had returned, Kun figured that his one, hardly influential life would be a fair trade for the millions of lives that could be saved in its place.

Once Hutong entered the park and slowed down enough to ensure that Kun wouldn’t unexpectedly smack his head on a low-hanging branch, he turned around in his seat. Irene was gaping at him incredulously. “Only a son of Hades can make such a request-”

“Or an immortal.”

It caught Kun off guard, but he supposed that that was true. But there was one point that he had been dreading to say, having hoped for the Hunter to give in to his plan before he could mention it. 

“I have to do it myself.” Kun swallowed, choosing his next words carefully. “Because there is only one thing that death will yield for.“

Irene nodded for him to continue. Kun took a deep breath. “Love weighs heavier than any force of nature.”

Irene’s face fell, eyebrows knitting together as she processed the information. She looked at Kun with an expression that he couldn’t quite read. “You love Seulgi?”

Kun barked out a laugh, finding the idea as absurd as Ten’s paranoia that he’d had a crush on Taeyong. He turned back around to face the front as Hutong slowed to a walk up the dirt path. “Gods, imagine that! No, I’m honestly a bit scared of her, actually.”

Irene let out a breath, seemingly relieved. “There is someone else you love, then.”

Throat going dry, Kun thought about it. He’d hardly had the time in his turbulent life to worry about anything as permanent as love, but there was no denying the one thing that had been in the background of each of his breathing hours. Twisting his black Stygian iron ring around his finger, he answered, “Yes.”

Irene didn’t push it any further, accepting her defeat at last. Hutong came to a stop, standing before a big pile of boulders. Kun hopped down onto the grass, the Hunter doing the same, before walking over to the rocks. He unzipped the case of Chenle’s ukulele, smiling at the yellow smiley face that the boy had painted on its side. Facing the boulders, Kun strummed a tune on the strings, recalling his memories of the guitar lessons from when he was younger.

With a loud crunch, the rocks began to shift to the music, a crack between them growing larger and larger until it became a shadowy gap large enough for Hutong to fit through. A cold breeze drifted out of the darkness, a familiar invitation to Kun. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper with his message in it, whistling Hutong over. 

Sticking it underneath her collar, he gave the hellhound another scratch on the head. “Will you bring Xiaojun through the LA entrance?”

Hutong attacked him with a swipe of her huge tongue, and Kun took that as a yes. Irene leapt back as he flicked the slobber off his arms. “Does she have the strength for another trip?”

Kun lead the hellhound towards the crack in the boulders, and with a last pat on her side, sent her bounding off into the shadows. “I’d never make her shadowtravel so far in one day, which is why we’re cutting through the Underworld. It’s shorter, and she knows the way better.”

“You’ve trained her well, then.” Irene hummed approvingly, and Kun thought that if he really were to die that night, he’d die happy knowing that the ice queen of the Hunters of Artemis once considered him a step above male trash, as she believed.

“Thank you very much,” Kun said proudly. He returned Chenle’s ukulele back to its case and swung it over his shoulder, stepping up to the shadowy entrance between the boulders. Resting a hand on the stone, could feel the built up chaos of a billion souls underground calling out to him. Plastering a smile onto his face, he turned back to Irene. “Ready to go to Hell?”

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢

_Smack._

The log split cleanly in two, and Irene wiped the sweat from her brow with the corner of her sleeve. For the middle of autumn, it was still far too warm for her liking. She wedged her axe into the tree stump she’d been using as a chopping block and leaned down to grab the halved wood, chucking the pieces into the growing pile behind her. She grabbed another log and placed it onto the block, again smoothly splitting it in half.

“Did that tree insult your mother or something?”

Irene looked over her shoulder in confusion at Seulgi. “Why would it insult my mother?”

”It’s just a saying,” The other Huntress laughed as she walked up to her, helping her kick the log into the pile. Seulgi tilted her head in question at her, and Irene felt herself consciously easing the muscles of her face to become less stern. She hadn’t noticed that she’d been frowning. “You only attack trees like that when Wendy makes you really, really angry.”

The wood nymph in question let out a delighted shriek from a distance off, near the sheep pens. Irene sighed. Wendy was _supposed_ to be helping Ten with his homework, but it seemed as if the two were instead caught up with adorning their poor sheep with hand-crafted flower crowns. 

“What’s bothering you, Joohyun?” Seulgi sat down on her chopping block, effectively forcing Irene to give her her attention.

“There is nothing bothering me.”

“Mmmm, I think there is.”

Irene huffed, rolling her eyes at how well the other girl could read her. “Jihyo’s report came in. The Hunt has not been smooth this season.”

Seulgi’s lips turned downwards slightly, the way it did whenever she caught Irene up late at night crafting letter after letter. It was the reason that Irene hadn’t told her sooner; she preferred to keep the task of worrying to herself.

“I know it makes you anxious to not be out there with the rest of them, but you made the choice to be here instead. We all did.”

Irene knew that it was true, but it didn’t take away her fear that one day something would go wrong and it would’ve been her fault for not preventing it. 

Seulgi continued. “You’re still very much present in the Hunt, you know? Nothing horrific has happened in the last few centuries with you at the helm, and nothing will anytime soon.”

“I just wish I could do more,” Irene sighed, picking at a splinter in her finger. “Not that I regret anything we have now.”

On cue, Wendy and Ten screeched in unison as a sheep stretched up and gobbled up a flower crown from the young boy’s hands. Irene rubbed her temples, unable to hold back a chuckle. No, she didn’t regret a thing.

The sun was starting to set by the time she and Seulgi had moved most of the pile of firewood into the storage shed, and they were on the last few armfuls when Joy yelled out the window that dinner was ready. The shed was mostly filled with dry wood, but a few pieces of Ten’s toy collection were strewn about, and Irene wondered when her brother was getting into the barn without her knowing. 

“Ten told me something today.” Seulgi picked up a teddy bear from the ground. “He wants to be a Hunter.”

Irene emptied her arms with a dull clatter, smile splitting her face involuntarily. She wouldn’t lie; the idea had crossed her mind often, of the day that she and her Hunters would return to their duty, but this time with her brother at their side. He was still young, but a far faster learner already than Irene had been when she’d first started out, not to mention that he showed enough diligent interest in the stories that Irene would tell him of her adventures to know half of what he needed to learn on a Hunt.

“I told him no, of course.”

Irene reeled in surprise. “Why?”

She hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but by the tone in which Seulgi responded, she had. “You know why!”

“I have known male Hunters in the past, and they’ve shown no less dedication than any of us; Ten has the potential to be one of the gre-”

“Irene!”

Eyebrows almost in her hairline, one would think that Irene had just proposed the murder of a dozen puppies by the way Seulgi looked at her. “What, Seulgi? Is it really that absurd of an idea to think that Ten could follow in our footsteps? Have we not raised him in every other way already?”

Seulgi’s expression hardened, and she took a step closer to Irene, close enough for her to see the wetness in her eyes that was just a tad beyond the burning effects of cedar wood in the barn air.

“You can, but I won’t pretend like the way we’ve lived is perfect. I can’t allow him to be deprived of the rest of his life.”

Hands shaking, Irene felt her entire body go cold. “Since when have you had the authority to make choices for my brother?”

She regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. Seulgi gasped, the hurt that she normally hid so well now displayed clearly on her face. Her eyes darted across Irene's face, searching, and dropped when she turned on her heel, fists clenched. Heart racing lowly, Irene rushed to catch Seulgi’s wrist before she could race out of the shed. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that-- that wasn’t what I... You are his sister as well as I am.”

Tears swam in Seulgi’s eyes, and the threat of them spilling stabbed into Irene’s heart. She forced her voice to stay steady. “I can’t do this without you, Seulgi. Forgive me.”

Expression softening from that of anger to hurt to resignation, Seulgi allowed herself to be pulled into a hug. Irene thought of the first night Seulgi had ran by her side as a Hunter, bow in her hand freshly carved just that morning and smile so blinding that it outshone the moon. Her unbridled excitement when she’d sworn to the Hunt was what Irene wished she could feel again, but when Seulgi whooped with glee as she caught up to Wendy, tagging her arm in their game, she felt the youthful excitement return to her once more, bit by bit.

She held Seulgi silently until the other’s breaths leveled out again, and she pulled away to look into Irene’s eyes, sincere as she always was. “Ten was graced with a Fate that not all of us were. He’s to be the best of us-- could you take that away from him? I- I know you want to guide him right, but guidance doesn’t mean locking him away.”

It was the bitter truth, and Irene knew it, not matter how she tried to deny it. She still knew the truth of the path that the Fates had carved, and she knew that Ten’s path should’ve never been tied with her’s. She’d already held on too long. "He has the rest of his life to be made his own.”

Seulgi sniffed, unconsciously tucking Ten’s teddy closer to herself. “Maybe he’ll end up a farmer.”

Irene groaned, and Seulgi laughed, a welcome sound. “Gods, if it’s one thing I don’t want him to inherit from us, it’s organic egg trading at the Amish market.”

They left the barn, sun dipping below the horizon, painting the sky a stunning pink.

“Maybe he’ll raise a cat.”

“Or a fish.”

“He could be a great artist, I think.”

Seulgi sighed absentmindedly, stopping in her tracks when they reached a point from which she could see the sunset washing over their acres of land. “He’ll love someone, one day.”

Irene observed her face, soft features that she could draw blind, dependable in every instance that she could think of. Sincere. Seulgi didn’t seem to notice her gaze, caught up in the beauty of the sunset. Irene looked away, watching the sky fade to a deep purple.

“One day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry for my inconsistent updating, but i hope this chapter wasn't too awful after all the waiting! please leave a comment or yell at me on twitter with what you thought of chapter 3! there is now much to think about... :)  
> [fic trailer](https://twitter.com/cherryy0ng/status/1217996608249397250?s=21)  
> [moodboards](https://twitter.com/cherryy0ng/status/1213873943943221248?s=21)


	5. kun is forcibly removed from hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day at camp, and a sacrifice.

Ten never remembered his dreams, as he knew he would not remember this one. 

He was standing in the front lawn of his childhood home, the sun bearing down imposingly on the rolling hills before him. The grass was dry under his feet, the air as crisp as a forest fire, and somewhere deep in Ten’s mind, this was familiar. He tried turning his head, but his neck was rooted to the view ahead of him.

_Child._

A detached voice rang out around him, and Ten found himself straining to look around but unable to. His paralysis was choking, but when all else failed, his voice never did.

“Who’s there?” He called out, echoing further than it should have for the landscape that he knew so well.

_I think you know._

If Ten could’ve rolled his eyes, he would’ve. “Clearly I don’t, which is why I asked.”

A ringing sound began to itch at the back of his head, not at all helping the heavy sunlight burning upon his skin. Ten wasn’t liking this dream very much.

_Fate has caught up to you._

When Ten died, he was gonna find whoever invented the practice of ‘Let Me Share This Important Message but as a Funky Limerick!' and punch that asshole right in the face. 

“No one catches up to me. I’m so fast, you see.”

_There are things you do not know, Chittaphon._

It’d been so long since Ten had heard that name that he was left momentarily speechless. The last time had to had been on his first day of boarding school, years ago, when the homeroom teacher had stared long and hard at her attendance list before confidently calling out “Cheetahfoon!”. Irene had told him that he was named after his father, who he never knew, and whose name which he stole was etched into a fallen soldier memorial somewhere in Florida. There were truly things that Ten did not know, and certain things, he did not care to know at all. He did not want to know who his father was before he was a gravestone, and he did not want to know why he had no other family to take him in besides an immortal sister and her cult of moon elves; he was blissfully ignorant and thankful for it. 

“No one knows everything,” He laughed, despite the sensation overwhelming him of melting underneath the glaring sun.

The scene around him began to shift, molding until it had placed him before the the blue porch of the Big House under a cloudy sky. Ten gained back control of his limbs, and he ascended the stairs, drawn by familiar voices coming from one side of the deck. Sitting on the lawn chairs that Chiron and Mr D often played pinochle on, their backs to Ten, were two boys, heads bumping together with how they were hunched over the table, intently observing something.

“Do it again!” The squeaky voice was strange in Ten’s ears, and his nose scrunched up in embarrassment upon realizing why the screech of it was so familiar.

Ten walked around the table as the air became charged with electricity, and saw the younger versions of himself and his best friend stare gleefully at the ball of lightning weaving between Taeyong’s fingers. The son of Zeus wore a concentrated expression, which soon broke into a shy smile as nine year old Ten giggled, hand outstretched to catch the condensed electricity in his palm. He let it travel up his arm, laughing as it tickled his shoulder, and Ten felt the phantom spark of it on his own shoulder as he watched the memory replay itself. 

From where he observed, unnoticed, Ten’s heart ached upon seeing the two beads strung on the leather cord hanging from Taeyong’s neck, marking the two years that he’d already been at camp. They had been young when they’d first met, young as they were now playing with Taeyong’s tricks on the porch, but his friend had arrived even before then, sent all the way from South Korea by his stepfather, pursued by a dozen monsters through his godly royal scent already. 

Ten watched the ball of lightning sizzle out and his younger self wrap his arms around Taeyong’s scrawny frame in an overzealous hug, and after a second, was reciprocated with a hesitant hand coming to rest on his back. The knot in Ten’s chest eased a bit. No matter the two years that Taeyong had spent alone, Ten had found him now, and he’d make sure that Taeyong wasn’t alone ever again.

The sound of someone else stepping onto the porch sent Ten drifting away from the scene and to the door of the house, where Chiron was just rolling his wheelchair out through. Following him came Irene, unchanged from the picture that every one of Ten’s memories held, only this time wearing a silver jacket that Ten had only seen on his ‘Aunt Arty’ prior to that day. He caught the last bit of their conversation as they emerged onto the porch.

“... assure you, we will take care of him.”

Irene let out a shaky sigh, smiling unsurely in reluctant gratitude. She started down the steps of the porch before hearing Taeyong let out a noise of excitement, head turning to see what it was about. Irene seemed to look almost directly at where Ten stood, but he knew that she saw right through his dream-form to where his younger self was entertaining his new friend with the changing colors of his eyebrows. His sister smiled softly, genuinely, but there was a darkness behind her eyes that Ten had always seen was there, but never knew what to make of it. 

“He can’t ever know,” she said without looking away from the boys, lips pressed into a thin line.

Chiron bowed his head grimly. “I pray that he won’t need to.”

Ten made to interject, to ask why, but this time, his voice failed him. The chatter of his younger self died down, until the reverberating silence was again all that surrounded him, and his body froze. Ten searched his sister’s face for an answer, but she only smiled in that familiarly sad way before beckoning for him, and Ten watched himself and Taeyong hop out of their chairs, the young Ten pulling his friend along from where their elbows were linked. He watched himself call out “Renie!” and his sister laugh something in response, but the voice that left her mouth was not her own.

_Search the past._

Suddenly, the wooden floorboards gave out from beneath him, and he was falling through a pitch black chasm, the darkness a choking difference from the overbearing light just seconds before. A scream tore out of Ten's throat, but no sound met his ears but a bodiless voice that followed him as he fell.

_You know nothing at all._

The darkness swallowed him whole, until he was nothing but weightless thought and empty terror. He fell and fell and fell, until-

Ten’s back hit the mattress of his bed, and he leapt awake, sitting bolt upright. Across the Aphrodite cabin, Yeji raised an eyebrow at him from where she was making her own bed. The sunlight streaming through the windows let him know that the morning alarm had just gone off and that breakfast was soon. Ten’s head rang, those same five words repeating over and over in his mind, and he was beginning to feel sick.

“You okay, Ten?” Yeji made her way over to him, not noticing that her camp shirt was on inside out. The two of them had been the only occupants of the Aphrodite cabin since Yeji arrived a few years ago, and his sister’s dis-coordination in the mornings was a match to his own.

“I’m good,” Ten responded, morning voice groggy. “Weird dream, you know.”

Yeji shook her head in agreement. “I hate those. Remember any of it this time?”

Ten frowned, rolling out of bed in search of a fresh, non-sweaty shirt. He’d never before remembered his dreams, but maybe the voice was right. His palms tickled in a hint of remembrance of the ball of lightning that had rolled in it, and his legs felt stiff from the suffocating paralysis he’d been trapped in.

“Nah, I always forget them.”

He knew nothing at all.

Three tables were empty in the dining pavilion when Ten arrived to breakfast, and by then, he knew something was up. It wasn't unusual for the Artemis bench to be empty for obvious reasons, but he had expected his sister to show up for breakfast. What was odder was that the only two sons of the Big Three were missing from their respective tables as well, and Ten was definitely suspicious at that. Taeyong was normally understandable, the perpetual night-owl and subsequent late sleeper that he was, but not Kun, who was a firm believer in the importance of every single meal during the day. 

Ten wasn’t often one to worry, but there was something of slight importance that he had to discuss with both of the missing halfbloods. It wasn’t anything big— just a life or death matter.

He went to join the breakfast line next to Taeil, who was sleepily rubbing his eyes with one hand and reigning in his brother by the back of the shirt with the other. 

Ten dodged the younger Hecate kid’s flailing arms where they swung at a cackling Chenle just out of reach. “Watch it, ya lil gremlin!” 

Donghyuck turned around joyfully upon hearing Ten’s voice. His smile turned into a dramatic pout as he pointed an accusing finger at the son of Apollo. “He’s keeping secrets!”

Ten let Taeil transfer his hold on his brother’s shirt to him so he could grab a plate of scrambled eggs, muttering, “He’ll get tired eventually.”

But Ten wasn’t that patient. He bent down, waving Donghyuck closer to him as if to share a secret of his own. The younger boy cupped his ear eagerly, sticking out a mocking tongue at Chenle. 

“You wanna know it too, right?”

Donghyuck nodded. “Real friends don’t hide secrets.”

“Damn straight,” Ten agreed, proud that the younger campers had learned his philosophy: no one could expose you if you expose yourself first. “What’ve I told you about Chenle’s weakness?”

Donghyuck thought for a second, then gasped. Chirping a quick “Thanks Ten!”, he chased Chenle out of the dining pavilion, wiggling fingers aimed for the other boy’s ticklish stomach, Jisung in quick pursuit upon realizing his plan. 

Ten stood back up, clapping off his hands in accomplishment and turning back to Taeil. His friend handed him a plate and goblet, shaking his head exasperatedly.

“And that’s another day’s worth of cleanup duty for the rascals,” Doyoung said as he snuck up behind Taeil and stole a piece of bacon off his plate. 

Ten snorted when Chiron’s recognizable scolding echoed from the direction of the cabins right on cue. “Better them than us.”

By the time they'd made it through the offering pyre and towards their seats, Taeyong had still not appeared. Taeyong had special permission to sit anywhere in the dining pavilion, as did every demigod who had no other siblings, and so he usually sat at the Aphrodite table with Ten, Yeji, and a few of his sister’s nymph friends. But the spot that he normally occupied was empty still, and Ten frowned. 

“Have you seen Yong?”

Doyoung shook his head. “I didn’t even know he returned from the quest.”

That was certainly concerning. Taeyong, a constant worrier, always made it a point to check in with their friends after a mission, but now that Ten thought about it, he hadn’t seen his friend since he ran straight to his cabin from the beach. Which meant...

“Who was the last person to see him?”

One step ahead of Taeil’s question, Ten was already marching through the pavilion. He planted himself directly in front of Cabin 9’s table, slamming his hands down on the surface and effectively silencing the boisterous chatter that always surrounded his least favorite Tall Ass Bitch. The children of Hephaestus all gaped at him, his presence being highly unusual as he normally avoided their leader like the plague. Krystal, the oldest camper of Cabin 9, let out a single amused snort, and nudged her brother. 

Johnny was the last to look up at him, relaxed smile across his face per usual. “‘Sup, Eleven?”

Ignoring the teasing nickname, Ten made his glare even icier. “Where the fuck is Taeyong?”

Mr D gave a half-assed warning of “Language!”, which they both ignored. Johnny shrugged, taking an unnecessarily long sip of his orange juice. “Why would I know?”

“I dunno,” Ten sneered, hearing multiple Hephaestus kids let out annoyed sighs. He could care less. “You're pretty far up his ass.”

Juice went straight up Johnny’s nose, sending him into a violent coughing fit, and Ten felt some satisfaction until a hand connected with his shoulder, shoving him away from the table. Shouts erupted around them, some gleeful for the action, and some, like Doyoung who rose from where he’d just settled at the Athena table, exasperated. Ten whipped around, snarling, and came face to face with the one person that he disliked perhaps even more than Johnny.

“Stay away from my friends, pretty boy.”

Ten didn’t break the other boy’s gaze, not even when he felt Doyoung’s hand wrap around his elbow warningly. The son of Ares’ bright red hair was distasteful, a far cry from the maroon shade of Ten’s own. “Tell yours to do the same, Nakamoto.”

Yuta pounced forward, stopping himself right before he would’ve connected with Ten, who didn’t flinch. He knew Yuta wouldn’t fight him. Not on an empty stomach, anyway. Johnny stood, wiping his nose with a napkin and placing a hand of his own on Yuta’s shoulder, pulling him back. Lucas soon arrived to stand behind them, arms crossed to feign intimidation but strawberry jam on his cheek giving him away. 

“I don’t _know_ where Taeyong is.”

“You were the last to see him!”

Johnny squinted. “Oh, I fucking _knew_ you were snooping-”

“You were talking about _me_ any-fucking-way!”

An exaggerated groan, and then, “Oh my gods, chill out; he’s still _sleeping!_ ”

Their heads all turned to the Iris table, and the pastel-haired boy that had taken a break from his muffin to holler over the argument. Dionysus just shook his head at them all, given up on the rules of table etiquette and precise language. Jaemin stuffed the last bit of his breakfast in his mouth before elaborating. “I was on cabin inspections. He’s just napping, man.”

And alright, that was completely fair and honestly very predictable of Taeyong, but there was something still nagging at the back of Ten’s head about what he’d heard last night, and the oddity of the dream that still clung to him. Lucas finally pulled Yuta out of his personal space, and Ten let himself take a step back too. The focus of the other campers left them now that the daily bit of dramatic entertainment was out of the way.

Johnny’s smile was long wiped from his face when he sat back down on the bench. “I know you heard, and Kun too. Taeyong was gonna tell you on his own time.”

It left a bitter taste in his mouth to think that there were things Taeyong had told Johnny of all people before Ten, but he figured one verbal assault was enough for today’s breakfast. “Whatever.”

He began to turn away, but another question rose to the surface as he thought of the company he’d been in last night. “You seen Kun?”

This one at least was a more reasonable question, as Kun was unfortunately the last fourth of the brutish clique that made up half of their age’s campers. Yuta scoffed, and Johnny got a mean glint in his eyes. Years of their disagreements had taught him to say what aggravated Ten the most. “Damn, didn’t know you cared.”

Ten seethed, held back only by Taeil now appearing at his side opposite Doyoung. “Fuck off! I don’t care!”

Yuta bared his teeth at him one last time, to which Ten responded with a forceful middle finger before allowing his friends to finally yank him away from the Hephaestus table.

“Great, now we all have cleanup.” Taeil left them to take back his seat at his own table, and Ten and Doyoung headed back to their tables, which were fortunately side by side.

“Why’d you need to find Yong anyway?” Doyoung grumbled, never one for early morning altercations.

“He thinks I might die or some shit.” Ten shrugged, watching his goblet fill itself up with water. He omitted the part he’d heard at the end, because he wasn’t too keen on reliving the memories of his brother. No one at camp really was. 

“What’s new?”

And that was true. They were demigods -- dying was what they did best.

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢

When no one answered the door by Ten’s third round of knocking, he pushed open the door of the Artemis cabin himself and entered, a plate of toast in hand. They’d relocated Seulgi to the cabin sometime during the night, and she would definitely be hungry when she woke up, and no one liked a hungry Seulgi. Ten frowned upon realizing that only one of his sisters was in the room, and that the currently-conscious one still was nowhere to be found. 

“Is Lady Irene in there?” 

Ten opened the door wider, looking back at the kids behind him. “Nah. You can go in.”

His sister was ominous like that, disappearing out of the blue every once in a while. Irene was probably meeting the Hunters halfway in their trek over to camp from Texas; she always got anxious when she was away from them for too long.

Chenle cheered, pushing Jisung through the cabin door first. He hesitated before going in himself, and looked up at Ten sheepishly. 

“What, Lele?”

Chenle’s eyes darted towards the direction of his own cabin across the lawn. “Can my new friend come too?”

Ten squinted at the Apollo cabin, and sure enough, a girl around Chenle’s age was peeking around the side of the building at them. Ten smiled, waving at her, to which she visibly jumped and ducked back behind the cabin. 

Chenle giggled. “Come on, Yerim! Ten’s nicer than he looks!”

“Hey! I’m _highly_ approachable!”

Chenle gave him a sly side eye, which Ten certainly never taught him directly to do. He let Chenle wait outside for his friend to build up the courage to make her way over, and stepped into the Artemis cabin. The walls were completely bare, minus a few old pictures taped to the wall above the bed that Seulgi now laid in. Ten approached, setting down the toast on a nightstand. 

Jisung was sat cross-legged on the floor already, sorting a collection of smooth pebbles around himself. Ten sat on the edge of the bed and felt Seulgi's temperature with the back of his hand. She was still out cold. 

“Ji _suuuung!_ ” Chenle whined, bursting into the cabin with a beet-red Yerim in tow. “I told you to wait for us!”

The son of Hypnos scrambled the rocks on the floor quickly. “I waited!”

Ten took a seat on a grey loveseat in the center of the room as the kids plopped on the ground and began to sort through the pebbles, which Jisung explained were ‘Dream Crystals’ meant to scare off any nightmares Seulgi might have as she slept. Yerim, after some hesitation, finally joined in with the usual bickering between Chenle and Jisung. 

Ten remembered that she'd arrived a couple of weeks ago, right around the time he had gotten out of school and came straight to camp after graduation. The Hunters had been on a mission at the time, which Irene had apologized profusely for, but honestly, Ten saw that it was better for her not to be there to see him hold back from fighting some of his dickhead classmates on the last day they’d ever see each other. 

Taeyong and Chiron had attended it instead, their mentor immediately having engaged himself in a conversation with Ten’s Latin teacher about ancient bread-making, while his home-schooled (camp-schooled?) best friend had sat uncomfortably the entire time, fending off the stares that his presence often brought. He never believed it when Ten told him, but it wasn’t that the mortals could smell his power or anything like that— Taeyong was just captivating, was all. Ten had been convinced in their youth that they were actually related, remembering how Apollo had told him once on a visit to camp that only the children of Aphrodite possessed such beauty to match the gods. And not to flaunt or anything, but Taeyong was definitely pleasing enough to the eye to be mistaken for an Aphrodite kid. The only difference was that Ten knew the power of his appearance, and even better how to use it. 

Ten let his eyes wander around the room, landing on the pictures on the wall. Rising from his seat, he walked over to observe them. Most were yellowing around the corners, telling of the many years that they’d probably been on display, but one was more recent. It was a candid, taken in what looked like the badlands out west. The Hunters were arranged in a semicircle, clearly posing for the photo, but there had been some sort of unexpected and sudden interruption right as the photo was taken, and the result was effectively hilarious. Wendy and Jihyo were nearly unrecognizable blurs with how fast they’d leapt in terror, and Joy’s head was thrown back in manic laughter. In the center of the photo, Irene and Artemis herself wore similarly endeared expressions, the goddess crowned in a silver light that was visable even through photograph. 

There was someone missing from the picture, and by process of elimination, if not the peak of a finger in the corner of the photo, Ten deducted that Seulgi had been behind the camera. He looked back towards his sister in her statue-like state. He wondered where Irene was; he’d expected that she’d be guarding Seulgi’s side constantly.

“Ten, whose do you think Yeri is?”

Yerim huffed. “I’m starting to think I won’t ever get claimed.”

Ten’s attention returned to the three demigods sprawled on the floor. He pondered the question, making sure not to stare too scarily at the shy kid. “Most of us don’t know for a little while, don’t worry.”

“But you did!” Jisung piped up.

Ten sighed, knowing what came whenever camp history was brought up. “My situation is different-“

Chenle cut him off with a dramatic gasp, smacking Yeri’s arm to get her attention though she was already looking at him. “I forgot to tell you about the Aphrodite kids!”

_Here we go again._

Chenle launched into a looping story about how there hadn’t been a son of Aphrodite for years and years, until Ten appeared out of nowhere, age 9, escorted by a dozen armed Hunters of Artemis. "Tennie's been here forever! That's why he knows all the secrets." Ten had begun to zone out by the time Chenle started describing his favorite of Ten's shapeshifts, emphasizing in detail his infamous Angelina Jolie depiction. 

“You should hear the voice with it, too.”

The familiar figure of a certain son of Zeus appeared in the doorway, and Chenle screeched, again smacking Yerim’s poor arm. “That’s Taeyong!! _The_ Taeyong I told you about!”

“And I thought I was cool,” Ten grumbled, grin spreading across his face. 

The moment Taeyong entered the cabin, Ten pulled him into a hug, shaking him around. “Bitch!”

“I overslept,” Taeyong coughed, batting Ten’s arms away to make a beeline for the toast on the nightstand, meeting Jisung's fist bump on the way over. Ten caught a glimpse of light reflecting off of Taeyong’s hands and startled, quickly flipping his own bare fingers back and forth. 

He gasped, head snapping up. “Are those my rings?”

Taeyong looked up from where he’d situated himself next to Jisung as he explained the purpose of his fancy pebbles. “Oh yeah, you’d left them in Texas.”

“You were in Texas?” Yeri seemed shocked about everything, but Ten supposed that was the effect of being a fresh friend of Chenle. 

“Sure was. S'really not as fun as it sounds.”

Taeyong wriggled off the three rings and tossed them in quick succession at Ten, who scowled at the butter from the toast that came off on them. He slipped the jewelry back on the appropriate fingers, admiring the two silver ones that he’d picked out himself. One was made by water nymphs in Chicago, when Ten had accompanied his sisters on his first Hunt with them, and the other had just caught his eye in a regular mortal jeweler. The third ring was the simplest of all, a simple black band that Kun had given to him a few years ago when they had first started training Hutong. The Stygian Iron that it was made of was supposed to remind the puppy of who to listen to, which Ten figured probably meant ‘not eat’, though he wasn’t so afraid of that anymore. 

He observed the band with a frown, noticing the deep crack through the middle that he knew hadn’t been there before. The dark, jagged line of it reminded him of the crack in the ground that Hutong had leapt out of yesterday. Kun had said that he hadn't sent her, and so hellhound must have sensed that Ten took the ring off, which he rarely ever did, and came running. He reminded himself to give her an extra doggie snack the next time he visited the stables. 

Which, looking at the clock on the wall, might be sooner than he thought. 

Jisung was just finishing up showing Yeri how to arrange the crystals around Seulgi for maximum sleep comfort while Chenle retold the story of that morning and how he’d escaped death-by-Donghyuck to Taeyong. The clock above the doorway of the cabin finally struck 10, marking the end of their leisure time. 

“What’ve you got today?” Ten dragged Taeyong up from the ground at his insistence, blaming his oh-so-creaky bones. 

“Teaching Greek with Doie.” His friend brushed off his pants, and Ten could see how despite having slept in, the bags under Taeyong’s eyes were still prominent. He frowned. 

“Yongie?”

“Hmm?”

“We gotta talk during lunch.”

Taeyong didn’t ask him to elaborate, knowing that any attempt at faking innocence could be picked out by his friend. Ten was still a little hurt that Taeyong hadn’t come to him first about a situation that very much involved him, but he knew he could trust his friend, and so he knew there was a reason. Taeyong nodded. There was something more besides what Ten had overheard last night that Taeyong hadn’t told anyone, he could tell. 

But it would wait until lunch. Turning back to the kids, Ten clapped and smiled cheerfully. 

“Yeri! Have you flown a pegasus yet?”

\----

“Slowly. She won’t bite.” 

Ten watched Yeri extend a shaky hand towards the silky mane of the pegasus mare. He’d picked the kindest of the creatures to work with the new camper for the day’s flying lesson, as he knew that Chenle and Donghyuck would be less spooked than their new camper if they actually got bit. Though he was worried that one day Donghyuck would actually bite a pegasus back, if he took Ten’s joking advice that one time seriously. Yeri finally made contact with the mare, and then leapt back the second the pegasus nuzzled into her hand. Ten laughed.

“That’s alright. You did great for the first day!”

Yeri accepted his high-five with a nervous laugh. In the field next to them, Chenle let out a whoop from the back of Yeji’s appaloosa, his sister looking very nervous for the son of Apollo, and Donghyuck next to him, who looked eager for his turn. “I’m taller than Chiron!”

“Do you wanna get up too?” Ten turned to Yeri, who was already shaking her head vigorously before he even asked the entire question.

“I like this pegasus, though.” She smiled, reaching out again to pet her mane.

Ten grinned. A few more weeks, and he’d teach Yeri how to fly like a real pro. “She likes you t-”

A chill ran down his spine right as shouts began to rise from the strawberry fields. A few campers were running out of the Armory to check, but Ten felt deep within himself that something was awfully wrong.

Yeri yelped when their pegasus bucked her head, sensing the distress. Ten held down her reins, though he knew his own anxiety wasn’t helping to calm her down.

“Yeji!” His sister was already leading her pegasus back towards the stables, and she turned back. “Can you get them both? I’m gonna go check it out.”

He sprinted towards the fields the second Yeji took the reins from him, heart pounding not just from the movement. As he neared the crowd forming in the middle of the farmland, he heard overlapping yells of “Get Ten!”

“I’m here! What is it?”

The campers parted, Krystal towards the front pulling Ten closer to the center of the commotion. Ten’s breath left his lungs, and he dropped to the ground, hands scrambling to help.

Demigods of Camper Jupiter weren’t supposed to enter the Greek camp without a schedule first, but here was Xiaojun, the praetor son of Pluto, and next to him, Irene. And his sister was not herself.

“I need to go!” Xiaojun yelled, throwing off Krystal's hands. But Ten dove straight for his sister, collapsed on the path between the strawberry vines.

“What happened!? Rene!” Ten pulled her into his arms, gasping in shock at how cold she was. Her silver halo flickered rapidly like a faulty light bulb. “What happened?”

She coughed, shaking, and Ten whipped his head towards the son of Pluto, who looked unbelievably paler than usual. Ten snatched up the other boy’s arm, feeling that it was just as icy as Irene’s. Fear settling in his stomach, he demanded, “What the fuck happened?”

He hadn’t even heard Chiron approach, but the legs of the white stallion were soon next to him. His mentor knelt down on his front legs. “Let me take her, Ten.”

“No!” Irene was still shaking, and oddly seemed lighter in Ten’s arms, and he absolutely was not about to let her out of his reach. He pulled back to look into her eyes, startled and empty like he’d never seen them, and his blood boiled at whatever caused this.

“I- I thought I could do it.” His sister tried to push words out, but she was trembling so hard that they came out only as a stutter. 

Xiaojun tried to stand and nearly toppled over before Amber steadied him by grabbing his shoulders. He tried to brush her off again, and Ten could see the same deranged look in his eyes.

“Xiaojun.” Ten tried to steady his voice. “Tell me what happened.”

“I need to go back.” The son of Pluto wouldn’t meet his eyes, gaze darting down at his own hands, which Ten realized with a shock were faded, as if he were fading out of existence. Luckily, Chiron was reaching to hold him up with one arm and handing him a square of ambrosia with the other.

Ten swallowed. He’d seen fading like that, like the body was slowly disintegrating, only once before. “Where did you shadowtravel to, Xiaojun?”

Xiaojun shook his head, hardly having nibbled at the ambrosia, shaking his hands frantically. He tried again to step away from Chiron’s hold, but the centaur had him by the shoulders, though he struggled all the same. “I need to go back for Kun!”

Ten’s breath hitched. Kun was smart, he’d always been, and that meant he wasn’t supposed to make stupid decisions and get himself in trouble. That was Ten’s specialty, not his. Xiaojun kicked at Chiron’s hold, and Ten allowed Amber to take hold of Irene as he stood, grasping the Roman boy’s face in both his hands and forcing him to look at him.

He demanded as firmly as he could. “Where is he?”

Xiaojun’s eyes were frantic but not yet defeated. “The- the Hunter was dying.”

“ _What?_ ” 

“Seulgi was!” Some color was returning to Xiaojun’s face, which hardly eased any of Ten’s concern. That couldn’t have been right; he’d just seen Seulgi. Hells, he’d even let three young kids play with dream pebbles next to the bed that she’d apparently laid in, _dying_. “Kun tried to bring her back from the Underworld.”

Ten cursed, biting back the icy cold panic that washed over his entire body. “How can he do that? Where is he now?”

Xiaojun let out a stuttering breath, and Ten’s heart began to race. “He’s still there.”

\----

Death was cold.

Or, Kun was currently freezing, and he was definitely dying, and so this was what death must feel like. He couldn’t tell what was real or not, if his eyes were even open at all; he was surrounded by darkness either way. Memories, faint snippets of his life played out around him, faces that he could hardly place to names now floating past him.

Then out of the darkness, a hand reached out and grabbed his own, and the world stilled. The shadow fell like a curtain, and his father stood before him, form flickering with an energy that kept Kun from seeing what he really looked like. Hades brushed back Kun’s hair from his face, and he knew that what he was seeing wasn’t real by that.

“Whoever it is, are they worth it?”

Kun was grounded by the bellowing voice of his father, enough to clear his thoughts. Hades had asked the same question minutes and years ago, to the steadfast Huntress that had stood before him, and long before then, to Kun himself. Irene had been silent the entire time they’d approached Hades’ palace, eyes never leaving the wispy spirit of Seulgi as Xiaojun had led it up the path ahead of them. 

Kun knew that he shouldn’t have underestimated what the Huntress had known, or had deducted from Seulgi’s rapidly solidifying spirit. Her form was becoming more and more visible by the minute, and if they halted any longer, her soul would be trapped forever in the Underworld. He and Xiaojun both knew that she was quickly losing her grip on her mortality, and Kun feared himself that he wouldn’t hold enough life in him to offer for her whole being. He hadn’t expected Irene to know that, though, and he certainly hadn’t expected Irene to step before his father before he even got the chance to, and announce, “I am Bae Joohyun, daughter of Aphrodite, Hunter of Artemis.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and Kun had tried to yell over her, stop her from the sacrifice that he was meant for, but Hades had raised a hand and his voice was taken from him. 

Irene didn’t look back as she continued. “I offer my soul for the returned life of Kang Seulgi.”

Hades had asked the question then, but before Irene could answer, Kun knew what he had to do. He knew that she was giving up more than just her life if she did this, and with the thought of all who needed her still, he brought the hilt of his sword down hard on the back of Irene’s head, knocking her out cold. Xiaojun was at her side in an instant, and when he met Kun’s eyes, he knew that his brother would do what had to be done. Hutong came barreling into the throne room, causing enough of a distraction to momentarily stun Hades, and Kun took the chance to kneel down by his brother.

“Dejun, take her back to camp.”

Xiaojun’s eyes went wide, mouth moving in a rushed panic. “But how will you get back?”

Kun looked to Hutong, who was now attacking their father in slobbery kisses, much to the god’s disgust. “I’ve got my puppy here. I’ll be okay.”

Xiaojun nodded jerkily, eyebrows knitted in hesitance. He took a deep breath, and began to melt into the shadows. Before he completely vanished, he called out once more. “I’ll be back for you, brother!”

The memory swirled out of his reach, and now Kun faced his father, the answer to his question forming in his mind but refusing to come out. _Whoever it is, are they worth it?_ His person was worth a million things in this world, and Kun would gladly surrender every single one, but the simple admission was the hardest to attain. But Hades knew so without him saying. The god of the dead stepped back, and his face finally formed into a forgiving smile.

Kun felt the familiar softness of fur brush against his back, and a whisper echo around him, pulling at his gut. _Come back._

“You don’t belong down here with me yet, son.” Hades nodded at him, and Kun’s vision began to darken at the edges once again. Panicked and afraid of drowning in the darkness, Kun reached out to hold onto his dad, but his hand passed through nothing. _Wake up, Kun._

His eyes were so heavy, and the fur below him was a soft blanket. He could fall asleep like this…

_Fucking wake up, dumbass!_

Kun frowned. He’d expected the Fates to use a gentler tone; he was dying after all. But there was some urgency about the voice that urged him to obey, that almost convinced him to think that maybe he _was_ a dumbass. The darkness around him swirled, and deep in his mind, this was a familiar sensation. Wind rushed past his ears, and what sounded like a panting dog was straight ahead of him, and his pants were way too thin for the chill of shadowtraveling... what was he thinking?

A warm hand brushed his cheek, searing his frozen skin, and Kun opened his eyes to blinding light.

“Don’t go ghosty on me now.”

The person’s voice was choked with tears, and that wasn’t right. He blinked slowly, and his eyes cleared enough to make out the outline of someone’s head hovering above his. 

“Kun? Kun!”

A big, chicken-flavoured-dog-treat-smelling tongue swiped over his face, and Kun was rather certain that he wasn’t dead now. Sputtering, Kun moved to wipe Hutong’s slobber from his face, but found that he couldn’t move his arms, trapped under the weight of something wrapped around him. Someone’s hair tickled his nose, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint why the smell of roses and cookie batter was so calming.

Suddenly, Kun’s eyes cleared, and he realized that a mop of dark red hair had been covering his face, preventing him from opening his eyes. He saw the wooden ceiling of the camp stables above him, and Hutong’s plus-sized chew toys strewn in the bed of hay around him. And now that he could see, he began to think that maybe he was dead after all, because he didn’t remember any gods besides Mr. D walking the earth that he’d lived in.

But then the god smacked a hand down on his chest, and Kun was brought back to the very real earth that was pressed against his back, the tickle of dry hay against his skin, and the weight of someone draped over him, legs straddling his sides and cat-like eyes staring wetly down at him in concern. "Why the hells would you do that?"

Usually when Ten gave him that look, it was because he’d caught him singing to the pegasi during stable cleanout, but Ten normally didn’t cry while doing so, and that was definitely worrisome. Instinctively, Kun reached a hand up to wipe the tears from Ten’s cheeks, but he couldn’t, because he had no hands. 

Ten noticed at the same time he did and let out a yelp, quickly scrambling to press a straw against Kun’s lips. His throat was unbelievably dry, so dry in fact that he didn’t even taste the nectar until the glass was empty and his hands reappeared and his head didn’t feel as light. 

“Better?” 

The concern didn’t leave Ten’s eyes until Kun croaked out a raspy, “Yeah”. 

Kun was glad to have his hands back, and he was glad to be able to see again. He couldn't be bothered to have a reason, but he was inexplicably relieved. He couldn’t remember how or why he had been dying, but he was thankful that he hadn’t because it would’ve been a shame to not say goodbye to Ten, to not see him smile one last time and call him stupid, even if he was now crying again. Kun was glad, but he was so tired, and the hay was comfortable enough.

“M’gonna take a nap,” was the last thing he managed to mumble before succumbing to the exhaustion, dreading the darkness behind his eyelids that followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading up until now! the next update may not be out for a couple of weeks, as i am going to be busy with some family and school situations in this coming month. i swear i'll be back as soon as i can! :)
> 
> [fic trailer](https://twitter.com/cherryy0ng/status/1217996608249397250?s=21)  
> [moodboards](https://twitter.com/cherryy0ng/status/1213873943943221248?s=21)


	6. ten and the very bad, no good prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prophecy is revealed at last.  
> tw: mentions of blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> four months later, and i'm still alive! i'm sorry to anyone who i've kept waiting!  
> quick note: i began this fic before wayv adopted louis, bella, and leon, and so at the time hutong was the closest thing they had to a pet, hence why kunten's pet hellhound shares her name!

Hutong was slobbering all over his shoulder, but Ten hardly had the energy to mind, only focused on the low beat of Kun’s pulse against his fingertips. He let out a sigh and slumped to the side, relieved that his plan to lure Hutong back to the stables with a bagful of her favorite treats actually worked to pull Kun out of _another_ self-righteous and purely idiotic suicide mission. Even if someone was dying, there had to always be methods beyond self-sacrifice to save the day, and Ten vowed to one day compile a list of proof of such to drill into Kun’s stubborn head. Plus, Seulgi couldn’t even die anyway-- that, Ten knew for certain. He’d seen her survive much worse than a gut wound. Hutong licked the side of his head, the hellhound the moment showing no interest whatsoever in the treats and was rather attempting to crawl into Ten’s arms as if she wasn’t the size of a pickup truck. 

Kun’s pulse was beating steadily, and Ten finally dropped his tense shoulders, which he hadn’t noticed were seized up earlier. He quickly swiped at the wetness on his cheek, which he also hadn’t noticed earlier-- but his hand came away stained not with tears but with the red of blood.

He startled upright onto his knees, patting himself down for signs of a wound to no avail, until he glanced back down at Kun… and the handprint stain dripping blood down his cheekbone to his ear.

Ten squawked ungracefully, scrambling to Kun’s side, but he must’ve moved too fast because his vision blacked out for a second and the next thing he knew, he was hovering over Kun’s face, balanced on his two forearms placed on either side of the other boy’s head. 

_Kun had lovely eyebrows,_ Ten thought, which he might’ve appreciated had he not been more focused on finding the source of all this blood. And then the further realization that he shouldn’t be appreciating Kun’s eyebrows _ever_ made him startle back again, another jerky movement that had his head spinning and vision spotting around the edges.

Hutong let out an anxious whine, and Ten used her petulant head as leverage to push himself back to Kun’s side. He hardly noticed the frantic voices entering the stables. He lifted a numb hand to inspect Kun’s unconscious face all over, the blood luckily not seeming to be spreading, but he wasn’t so sure that he could trust his eyes with his vision blurring as it was now. The world tilted, and had Ten not already been on the ground he’d have fallen for sure, and he thought that maybe he could lay down for a bit, catch up on some sleep…

A hand was on his shoulder, pulling him back, and Ten resisted until he turned back and saw the gentle, familiar eyes of Joy easing him away from Kun, and he let himself be pulled away. Distantly, he registered with relief that the rest of the Hunters had arrived, and a weight was lifted off his shoulders knowing that all his people were in one place again, even if a few had seemingly just returned from a trip to hell. Eyelids growing increasingly heavy, Ten made out the blurry but unmistakably willowy silhouette of Taeyong sliding into the stable with a gasp, another taller, bulkier figure skidding to a stop behind him.

“Oh, hells, his _hand._ ” 

Ten didn’t have the strength to smack Johnny’s arms away as Joy transferred him over, and had he had the strength, he would’ve drawn their attention to the fact that Kun had just come back from the _dead_ and needed assistance more direly, as did his dog, who must be hungry after the warps she’d just performed. But, he trusted Joy as he trusted all his sisters, and he knew no better healer than the daughter of Apollo. Kun would be alright in her care, and she would not have been at his side had Irene not been alright too, and Hutong would eat her treats eventually, and Ten allowed himself to succumb to sleep, feeling heavier than he had in a long time.

Thunder rumbled over the valley as Johnny ran towards the Big House, Ten jostling in his arms, whether by his uneven sprint or by the small tornado that Taeyong was conjuring up as he zipped alongside them, hovering two feet above the ground. _Taeyong’s day job could be at a high budget haunted house_ , Ten thought with delirious delight. The hilt of Katoptris dug into Ten’s hip, a numbness was spreading throughout his body from his palms out, and he was flopping around ungracefully, but all of Ten’s discomfort hardly deterred him from falling into a deep sleep. The thunder faded away, until Ten heard nothing but his own voice shouting out _Wake up!_ , and he drifted away.

\----

With the arrival of spring came a symphony of birds returning from migration. Irene welcomed the clammer, for days began early on the farm and an unconventional morning alarm of waking birds was as good as any. Between Wendy and her toddler brother, help was sorely needed to rouse the house from sleep. 

As the rising sun peeked through the blinds, Irene reached to switch off her desk lamp. She shook off her hand, sore from penning the small stack of letters spread out on the desk. The final page still laid unfolded before her, gel ink drying slowly besides an unaddressed envelope. Irene sighed, planting a hand on each side of her armchair and twisting to the right, welcoming the cracking of her weary back. She did the same to the left side before turning back to the now-dry letter. She brushed a finger over the letter’s contents, the sincerity in each word she’d placed on it, and discovered that the closing notes had not yet settled completely onto the paper, and were now smeared with her fingerprint. 

The sound of small feet against wood floorboards sounded right outside her door, and then stopped. Irene did not have to turn around to know that if she did, she’d see Ten’s tiny shadow disrupting the thin line of light peeking beneath her door. She counted to two seconds, and then sure enough, chubby hands wrapped around the door handle and pushed in.

Irene swiveled the chair around to collect her brother in her arms. Ten’s eyes were still squinty with sleep, and he somehow had one red sock on when Irene remembered putting him to bed with a set of blue ones, and he clambered all over Irene’s knees to settle face-first into the crook of her elbow. She petted his hair gently, which she noticed lately hasn’t veered from its natural black color. There would be time later to reteach him of his gifts. 

“Tennie,” Irene murmured, swivelling her chair to face the desk once again. “Wouldn’t your bed be more comfortable to sleep in?”

“I don’ wanna sleep,” Ten grumbled into her arm, a spot of drool surely forming on her sleeve. 

“Bad dreams?”

Ten squirmed around until he was sitting upright, squished on the chair next to Irene, chin at level with the edge of the desk. His hands made a grabby motion for the letter, but Irene tutted and held it out of reach before he could take it. She folded the paper into three and stuck it into an envelope, adding it to the stack.

Ten was unsatisfied with this. “What’re you writing? Will you read them to me?”

Irene smiled down at him gently, shaking her head. “When you’re older, you can read them yourself.”

Gathering Ten up in her arms, she walked them over to her wardrobe. It was Monday, her turn at the farmer’s market, and she told Ten as much as she sifted through the hangers. There weren’t many options; she’d recently had to switch out the clothes that had been left in the closet from the last time she’d lived here for a newer style that wasn’t from the era of the Civil War. Ten gave his thoughts to each outfit that she picked out, huffing with a shake of his head until Irene landed on an old jacket, tucked far into the side of the closet.

“Aunt Arty!” Ten exclaimed, nearly falling out of Irene’s arms as he grabbed for it. Irene pulled the hanger off the rack, holding it out in front of her so that Ten could pinch at one of its leather sleeves. In the newly flooding sunlight, each fold of the fabric shone a gentle silver, and Ten turned the sleeve back and forth just to giggle at the way it shimmered. “Wear this one!”

Irene watched Ten trace the jacket’s worn cuffs, and remembered the last time she’d worn the jacket-- when she’d surrendered the moonthreaded armor for the future that was preciously balanced, fidgeting impatiently on her hip. 

“No, not this one.” Irene set her brother down to carefully return the jacket to the back of the closet. “It’s for special occasions only.”

Ten nodded, expression serious as if he understood. “Special okay-chins only.”

\-----

Voices drifted blurrily around Ten’s throbbing head, fading in and out of the point where he’d be able to decipher their words. He was just conscious enough to feel it when a sopping wet towel was plopped onto his forehead, and the scolding hisses that followed it were the first of the voices that he could recognize. 

Two sharp voices said “I said _wring it out!_ ” and “Are you _trying_ to drown him?”, while a third said “Oops, sorry Ten,” and Ten let himself fall back into sleep knowing that Irene and Taeyong were there to snatch the towel away from Lucas, and that nothing could happen to him in sleep, not even the dreaded Huang Xuxi on infirmary duty, so long as those two were still breathing.

\----

Ten never had friends when he was younger. Well, not the type of friends that he could invite for a sleepover and sneak out at midnight onto the top of the potato storage barn with. Here, the only window lit in the house was Irene’s third-floor bedroom, Kun was laughing a 13-year-old laugh next to him, and so Ten knew that this was a dream and not a memory.

His dream self peaked at Kun from the corners of his eyes, his expression hovering the line between irritation and shyness that the Ten of today wouldn’t even bother with. A solid glower was his usual go-to, if he really wanted to label the way he probably looked at Kun. Kun was undeterred by the younger Ten’s (not as inconspicuous as he thought) stare, and only continued in his laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” Ten heard himself ask.

Kun laughed even harder, hard enough that Ten was scared he’d shake himself off the roof. The farm had been built sometime between however old his sister really was and 1800, and though not a speck of mold ever appeared in the house or on any shed, Ten wouldn’t put it past Kun to collapse the entire barn with the way he was giggling. His dream self didn’t laugh with him, just kept staring at him with that complicated look on his face. _Gods_ , was that what Ten really looked like? He was sure he’d know it if he ever looked at _anyone_ like that.

Finally, Kun caught his breath and pointed a finger straight up. “Look!”

Ten followed his finger up to the night sky. The moon wasn’t unordinary, and clouds covered most of the stars from view. There really wasn’t much in the sky at all, but by the way Kun gushed about it, Ten might’ve believed that the heavens had opened up right in front of them. 

“Look, Ten,” Kun said, suddenly grabbing Ten’s wrist from where it had been folded over his stomach and wrestled his finger to point at the blank sky. His burning touch went as soon as it came, and Kun pointed at the same spot too. “The moons are falling.”

Sure enough, the moment the words left his mouth, tiny, silver specks of light appeared behind the clouds, growing brighter and brighter… and brighter and brighter until Ten realized that the lights weren’t growing larger so much as they were getting closer. At this, he sat up, but when Kun’s laughter cut off abruptly, he whipped his head around in alarm. 

Kun now looked a few years older, around 15, but with none of the grey hollowness that Ten saw in every memory of the real Kun of three years prior. Where his eyes had reflected the moon earlier, they were pitch black now as he too sat up, hand finding Ten’s wrist again as he frowned towards the sky. 

Looking back up, the lights or stars or whatevers were hurtling ever closer, and Kun’s grip on him tightened. Ten scrambled to the edge of the roof, dragging Kun along with him. It’d be better to be within the shelter of the barn rather than on top of it, he figured. 

“Kun, wh-“

Before Ten’s full question left his mouth, light erupted all around them, and with it a gust of wind so powerful that it pushed the two of them back to the center of the roof. The blinking light didn’t cease for a second, and when it did, Ten’s vision was still patchy with black and orange spots. And then he realized his vision was just fine, and that the orange and black he saw was something else entirely. 

The farmhouse where he’d grown up was but a flaming crater in the ground. 

Ashes filled his lungs when he gasped, and he leapt to his feet, meaning to jump off the top of the barn, shins be damned, but then there was no barn beneath his feet. He hadn’t realized that Kun was still holding his wrist until it slipped through the other boy’s grasp, and Ten fell into darkness.

“Ten!”

With Kun’s yell echoing after him, Ten crashed through what had been the barn roof and landed in a crouch on a bumpy ground. The suffocating sting of smoke was gone, but with the flames went the light, and Ten found himself stumbling forward against shadows. With his hands held out in front of him, he soon hit the scratchy of tree bark. 

He heard Kun’s voice in the distance, a harsh whisper laced with a desperation that dragged painfully through Ten’s ears. There was a dim light ahead of him, and he raced forward, clambering over roots and plants until he broke into a scene so jarring that it stopped him straight in his tracks.

Ten-- _another_ Ten, older than the one that stood frozen at the edge of the clearing but identical to the Ten outside of the dream-- was limp on the ground, blood dripping a track down his cheeks from his temples, staining the grass around him and Kun’s hands as the son of Hades gathered him on his lap. 

Kun looked worse for wear himself, eyes sunken and lips murmuring unceasingly. Ten’s chest clenched when he noticed a dark red stain in the suspicious shape of a handprint on the side of his face, and his fingertips itched with the echoing feeling of his faint pulse made slippery with blood, and he couldn’t stop himself from calling out.

“Kun!”

Kun turned his head, but the moment his dead eyes met Ten’s at his spot within the trees, a different face stared back at him, a ghost so well-covered by sheer will of stubborn refusal that Ten was shocked to recognize the lines that made up his brother’s angelic, haunted face. 

“Jae?” Ten let out a disbelieving breath of hope, subconsciously moving into the clearing towards him. He quickly halted when Jaehyun’s eyes went wide, glancing at Ten and then at a spot above his head, expression every bit the kid that had shown up on Half Blood Hill glowing pink with Aphrodite’s blessing, who was older than his malnourished form appeared as he peeked out from behind a threateningly fierce Sicheng.

 _Sicheng._ Ten’s eyes flickered down to the body laying limp in Jaehyun’s arms, but before he could focus on its face, his vision went spotty again, and a shy voice permeated through his dreamscape. He squinted to focus, but light was already breaking up the scene, along with bits of a conversation.

_… everyone’s got their place already._

Ten’s feet moved forward, but the image in front of him was already just a mist of a vision. 

_Certainly not, it’s just summer camp. There’s every other season to find a place elsewhere._

Jaehyun’s silhouette reached out an arm, fingers outstretched and Ten was nearly there, could almost reach him-- but he opened his eyes to the slats of a bunk bed above him instead. 

“I mean, everyone’s got their people already, their favorites,” a little girl’s voice huffed. “Jisung is mister Taeyong’s, and Chenle is Ten’s and mister Kun’s, and Yeji’s friends with _everyone…_ ”

Ten had already been annoyed to be pulled out of his strange dream, but was even more so now. Why were Taeyong and Kun _misters_ and he wasn’t? How come he and Kun had to share custody of Chenle in Yeri’s mind? The girl huffed again, as if responding that she didn’t know either. 

“I don’t have a favorite. I’m not anyone’s favorite, either,” responded a voice that Ten almost couldn’t match to a face, until he remembered that voice shouting over a mouthful of breakfast muffins. 

He turned his head slightly, and saw Jaemin and Yeri perched on another bunk bed with a stack of playing cards between them. Judging by the light, it was mid-afternoon, so he was rather certain that they should be following the camp schedule rather than gossiping and playing cards. Then again, Ten hardly ever saw Jaemin hanging around others besides Donghyuck and the satyrs, and so it was no wonder how Jaemin turned into such a gossip. Not that Ten was innocent himself of the practice… nor of being Donghyuck’s main source of camper information. 

Yeri looked up from the cards and reached all the way up to pat Jaemin on the top of his head. “You can be _my_ favorite!”

Ten couldn’t stay annoyed at seeing the unclaimed demigod finally open up, and to the broody year-rounder Jaemin, no less. The son of Iris seemed to not quite know how to react to that, so he stiffly patted Yeri on the head in return, though his bright smile gave away his thrill at the concept of having a shadow, though Yeri was really just a couple of years younger than him. They stared at each other, neither knowing what to say, and it was all rather awkward as Jaemin hadn’t retracted his hand from the top of Yeri’s head.

Ten cleared his throat, and they both jumped, cards scattering all over the floor, which Ten was just now noticing wasn’t the dark wood floor of the Big House but the lighter color of a cabin’s. Yeri blinked her shock away, looking as if she might say something, but jumped to the floor and started picking the cards up instead. 

“You’re awake! Finally; you slept a whole day.” Jaemin walked to Ten’s side, helping him sit upright against the pillow. “We couldn’t save your ring.”

“My what?” Ten asked, rolling his neck. A breeze drifted through the window, bringing the taste of the sea. He looked around at the five other empty bunks.

Jaemin pointed to Ten’s arm under the blanket. “You must’ve punched something hard, cause one of your rings cracked and totally dug into your finger.” 

Sure enough, his right hand was wrapped in a few layers of gauze. That must’ve been the source of the blood, though he didn’t recall hitting his hand on anything. Ten frowned, wondering which ring it was. He looked back up at Jaemin. “Why’re we in the Poseidon cabin?” 

“Mr. D said we had to supervise you,” Jaemin said. “And the Big House got too full of unconscious people, and Chenle kept reading medical research books at you in the Apollo cabin so they had to move you here.”

“Supervise? Can’t a man sleep without being watched?” Ten would much prefer to listen to Chenle read about neurosurgery than to have Dionysus on his tail all the time, but that was a fact he hadn’t been able to change since he was 9 years old.

“Last time you were left alone, you magic-talked a quarter of Long Island into waking up, including the dead, and I don’t mean just your sister-- the nice one, that is.” The son of Iris’ sweet smile was jarringly paired with his blunt words. “Xiaojun and Kun were working overtime to ward off all the corpses that came crawling out the water.”

Yeri looked about as repulsed as Ten felt. He didn’t quite understand the first half of what Jaemin had said, but drowned zombies definitely painted a gross image.

“Seulgi’s awake? And the death bros? How long’s it been?”

Jaemin visibly held back from rolling his eyes, as if to say _I_ just _said you slept for a day,_ and ignored his question, reaching instead into his pocket. He handed Ten a folded piece of notebook paper. “He also said to give you this.”

Ten unfolded the note, and… well. He hadn’t quite expected to be hit by a prophecy within minutes of just waking up, but in Taeyong’s neat handwriting across the top was written in all caps, DANGER: PROPHECY FOR TEN-- READ ASAP. He pondered the absurdity of his friend clearly labeling a highly important document as “dangerous” before handing it over to a 14 year old boy who’d definitely read past the warning, and his eyes flitted down to the text below, scribbled as if Taeyong had copied it while someone spoke:

The god-killer trained by immortal hands,

must betray blood for a mortal end.

Lover’s deception sets forth the path

for halfblood court and Olympic death.

Eldest son of love and war,

shall first fall by the truth restored;

Curse be fulfilled 

by last sacrifice;

A brother for a brother,

life for a life.

Ten’s blood rushed in his ears, and he reread the whole thing twice, three times before he finally unthawed and sucked in a breath. “Fucking hells. Fucking shit, gods _damn_.”

Ignoring Yeri’s quiet gasp of shock at such daring, profane language under the roof of a Big Three god, Ten swung his legs over the side of the bed. Jaemin jumped up after him, arm reaching out for a second before he thought better of it and let it flop back down to his side, resigned to watching Ten stomp towards the door with as much vigor as someone who’d just stood up too fast could.

Jaemin called after him, “Mr. D said you had to rest!”

Ten shot a cold look over his shoulder, and Jaemin sighed, looking to the floor in defeat. Yeri piped up, “I told him that was an unrealistic expectation.”

Ah, maybe Ten had a new favorite. He stormed towards the Big House, and no one stopped him.

\----

Ten,

At the time that you are reading this, I must either be dead or otherwise incompacitated, and so I will not meaninglessly ask that this letter finds you well, but in the case that my death found you untimely, I hope that you may find some comfort in the words I’ve provided here. Furthermore, if you are to be reading the contents of these letters, it will be because I have not found the opportunity to speak with you on these matters in person. I will be thorough, so as to not leave you with further questions.

The brother whom I address in the moment of my writing is asleep in your crib at last, a feat found most difficult by the Hunters. There is no certain point in wishing, but I do wish that by the time this letter finds you, that you have not suffered excessive trauma due to our poor methods in raising you. Our custody of you was unexpected, but wholly necessary, and the reason for my writings will explain to you why…

I am your sister. I am a Hunter of the Lady Artemis, and the Hunt will be your family.

Our mother is the goddess, Aphrodite. Your father has taken many identities, but the one our mother knew was during his time in the US Navy, and I’m afraid it was the last identity he held before passing. You’ll know that between a god’s duties and the inevitable constraints of death, your upbringing will likely be void of both their presences. For reasons that you will soon know, it is also for the better.

You and I are not the only demigods. There is a camp that exists only to train people like us to protect ourselves from dangers posed by our world, and to protect the world from threats beyond, and you will join them when you are older. Such will be your duty as a demigod, and is my duty as a Hunter as well. However, by the time that day arrives, you will have been well prepared for it. Such is my duty as the one who wishes to guide you through your fate.

Your fate has been carved by the stars to be great. Very few beings are ever given a fate to fulfill, and there will be some who consider you either blessed or cursed for such, but I hope that you will see it as nothing of the sort. Your life will always be yours to live. You can never forfeit control of your fated life to evil, though you will find that some will direly attempt to seize that control from you. Such evil is what I wish to protect you from until the time comes that you can do so yourself. I swear to protect you after even then.

These are things you must never forget: 

Firstly, your fate will only become as great as you allow it to be.

Secondly, the line between good and evil is drawn uniquely to every person, but the line you draw must be distinct. The good will show itself to you slowly, but some evil may not ever become tangible, and so you must remind yourself to not thrive in comfort and forget the existence of wickedness. Enemies do exist, and I’ll tell you now that there exists a number of them for you already. 

These enemies killed your brother for his fate, and they will not hesitate to kill you for yours.

Dear Ten, at the same moment that I was dawned with the realization that such severity in tone may be excessively harsh, you awoke from your slumber. I will continue my words on another day, and I pray by then that you do not fight as valiantly as you do now to maintain your hold on wakefulness. I should also pray to adopt a gentler voice in writing, as I sense that you may be unsettled at this point in my writings. For as old as I am, it seems that I, too, am still growing. Do not mistake my phraseology as the absence of forethought. I wish that for what warmth I lack in script, I make up for in the years to come.

You may now continue on to the next letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no one:
> 
> irene: bad people are OUT THERE and they WILL try to KILL YOU im sorry was that mean i didnt mean it like that ily dont cry baby bro

**Author's Note:**

> please drop a comment or an ask in my cc! i love to hear anything you'd like to say, and i adore helpful suggestions! my twitter is [cherryy0ng](https://twitter.com/CHERRYY0NG) if you'd just like to holler with me as well <3


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